Star Wars Rewrite - Episode VII: The Force Awakens
by JSailer
Summary: Thirty years after Endor, a clue to a weapon from the past has been discovered on Jakku. A deadly race ensues, and a new generation of heroes and villains will rise to decide the fate of the galaxy. (This is a rewrite of TFA that belongs in its own separate universe, but will use elements of Legends and Canon where we see fit [see Discussion]). Uploads every other Monday.
1. A Discusion from the Authors

**A Discussion from the Authors**

 **And an introduction to Star Wars Rewrite**

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 **(for the latter, scroll down to the Structure section)**

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 **(Note: if you would like to start the story proper, please skip to the next chapter which will take you to the Prologue)**

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Hi, I'm JSailer!

 _And I'm Cale._

And we are the primary writers of Star Wars Rewrite: The Force Awakens. If you are reading this, then you've no doubt found our story here on FanFiction or on the Youtube page. Before you begin reading or listening to the story, we kind of figured having this here would be a good idea to generally say why we're doing this and what we're going to do with this verse of ours moving forward.

Now, we did post a similar section here, but we had a lot of folks complain that it had devolved into a rant. So, we're altering it a bit to be a bit more concise to and the point. So, with that bit of house keeping out of the way, Cale would you like to start us off?

 _Well, where to begin than with the sequel trilogy movies. Short answer, we don't like them. Long answer WEEEEE DOOOOOON'T LIIIIIIKE THEEEEM._

Cale, you've become a little pale over there. You okay? You turning into a ghost or something? Do I need to call the Winchester brothers?

 _In all seriousness, we find the sequel trilogy films to be rather insulting to the fans, both new and old. Granted, I'd say TFA was a bit more respectful than the movie made by the round headed idiot, but even that was just retreading water with no real development of the universe or telling how we got here._

Indeed. For us, it largely comes down to the three things. First, we don't like the lack of a properly developed world that is both exciting and provides a good foundation for this verse to grow. TFA does not do this. It drops us thirty years after the fact with very little to work with besides a giant, unanswered mystery box of how things got so bad. Yes, there were some books that did bring some insight, but the movies should have still given some answers, or at least told it in a way that you didn't need to read a book to understand how things got this way. In addition to this, the universe is set up to where there really can't be any interesting stories to tell as the movie kills off NJO, the NR, and settles for a repeat of the OT without the openness for non-movie expansion.

 _Look, you may hate the Prequel movies, but you cannot deny it created a great EU._

 _Second, we didn't like the lack of development for the characters, and the lack of respect for the the old characters. It came out in interviews that Abrams didn't want to bring Luke Skywalker out because he kept stealing the scene as it were from the new characters, so that's why Luke was stuck on an island with nothing to do in TFA, other than to look haunted. All I have to really say is ya should have taken the hint Abrams! If you can't make your characters compelling enough to compete with a great character, than there is something wrong with your characters! Sorry you take over._

That's okay. You're absolutely correct. We need not look any further than that infamous line from the next movie over "Let the Past die, kill it if you have to" in order to understand the thought process of these plebeians.

And that brings us to number 3, and I will keep this one brief. We vehemently despise that Star Wars got co-opted as a political platform. Yes, Star Wars had politics as a centerpiece before, but that was on topics that were timeless. Government and society turned evil, lawlessness in the galaxy, good guys fighting for freedom against the tyranny of the few, Heroes being Heroes. These are things that have existed since the early days of storytelling, and do not need to be tied to any point in history.

Instead, the new movies have interjected them with current, charged politics that date the movies badly. Forty years from then, we can still understand what the OT was about. Twenty years, we can still understand where the PT's were coming from. But ST? Are people going to understand why gender politics were in this movie?

But I digress.

 _Well, With that out of the way, let's talk about what we plan to do with this version of the story, and this version of the Star Wars EU._

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 **The Structure of the Rewrite verse**

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1\. With some exceptions, everything that happens pre-Legends _(ie, before Disney's take over)_ RotS happens in this verse. For example, KotOR, both Clone Wars and the Bane Trilogy are still canon, but stories such as Dark Disciple will not be canon here _(it ruins both Quinlan Vos' original story in the Dark Horse comics and kills off Asajj Ventress in a really stupid way)._

2\. The post-RotS era will be entirely separate from both Canon and Legends but will use material from both where we see fit. For example, we will use characters from Legends in conjunction with their Canon counterparts _(ie, you will see Kyp Duron with Kanan Jarrus or Ahsoka with Kyle Katarn)_.

3\. Characters who have shown to have died or went down some specific path in either Legends or Canon may not have died or gone down said path _(such as Asajj Ventress' death, A'Shard Hett's fall to the Dark Side, or Shaak Ti being killed for whatever time it is. Yes, she will not die in verse... at least not in the stupid ways she dies!)_

4\. While we may use Canon characters, such as Rey, Poe, Finn and Kylo Ren, they will not be the same as their Canon counterparts. Instead, hopefully, they will receive far greater characterization and satisfying arcs. _(Let's get this out of the way. Rey was not sold for drinking money, and she does not spontaneously get superpowers for no goddamn reason, so get both out your head when you eventually meet her in this story)._

5\. While we may use Canon storylines, they will be heavily altered. So, while we may use specific scenes from the movie and a similar act structure, the overall mood, point, character arcs, and even general plot will be different or bear only a passing resemblance to its original source material. _(The same could be said for Legends Storylines in this verse.)_

6\. Aside from rewriting stories and movies from the Canon verse, we are also looking to create a broader EU _(Expanded Universe not to be confused with the European Union)_ with original stories and characters, with a main emphasis on the Dark Times, Post-Jakku, and Sequel Trilogy Eras, and even beyond. As such, we have recruited a handful of other writers to help us do this once we get to a certain point of comfortable completion with TFA, and we're on the lookout for more.

7\. Above all, we aim to create good stories that can act as alternative to both Legends and Canon _(depending on which you don't like for whatever reason)_. These stories will feel like Star Wars, yes, but they will also be objectively good, and this is not a boast. This is what we want to do, and will hold to this contract.

Alright, I don't see anything else to add here. Cale?

 _No, I think we said everything that needs to be said. Well there is one thing to possibly add. We hope you enjoy our story._

Likewise. Please like and review our chapters as you see fit. This will greatly help us improve the quality of the stories moving forward. Alright, I believe this concludes this introduction section.

 _Indeed, I hope you all enjoyed this discussion and would like to contribute to this timeline. We would like to try and keep it consistent with itself as much as it can be. Any closing statements from you, Jacob?_

May the Force and the God-Emperor be with you. Live long and prosper. And as always *puts on sunglasses and imitates a Russian accent* have nice day.


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

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 **Taungsday, Nelona 23rd**

 **Korriban**

 **31 Years After the Battle of Yavin**

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Night was settling, and as the sun slowly set behind the horizon, the darkness of the valley began to emerge like haunting specters from the ruins below. Their ancient spires and stonework had crumbled and decayed for thousands of years, and yet they still boasted their history with a sense of dreadful pride. Through these signatures of a once great empire stood a single, monolithic pyramid. It's stature was nothing short of foreboding, casting a deep oppressive shadow in the dying light that provided an atmosphere of oppression and terror.

Yet, this was not the feeling in the column of a dozen black robed men striding through the remains of their birthright. Fearlessly, they entered the great courtyard; their heavy strides echoing off the aged stone. Their leader stopped for a moment to take in… everything. There was a feeling deep within him that he did not quite understand. He searched within his mind, and yet could not describe this feeling.

Was it fear? Was it amazement?

"No," he mused softly. No, it was stronger than fear; deeper than just simple amazement. It was… destiny. His destiny. Through the unlikely and treacherous paths that he had taken over the many long years… he was here.

And he would fulfill it, one way… or another.

"My Lord?" one of his followers beckoned with a raised hand. He simply nodded, staring up at the capstone of the temple.

"Let us continue."

A dozen paces ahead lay the great door, cast of stone and steel. From the looks of it, it weighed several tonnes. Any archaeological team observing the site would've required great machines to move it even inches. A great, if not impossible task for ordinary men. He smiled.

"But we are not ordinary men, are we?" he whispered to himself. He then spread his arms wide in either direction, and like an orchestra following to the command of a seasoned director, the others quickly flanked him. They gestured their hands to the great mass ahead, bowing their heads and closing their eyes. Then they started to chant.

"Peace is a lie. There is only passion."

Their hands shook with the effort, their bodies beginning to quake like posts in a gale.

"Through passion, I gain strength."

The sound of rumbling echoed through the valley as the ground itself thundered with intense power.

"Through strength, I gain power."

The stone began to wobble from its perch. But it's stubbornness was telling. It was as if the Ancients themselves were testing them. Trying their strength and commitment to see if they were worthy of their secrets. The secrets of absolute power.

"Through power, I gain victory."

The robed figures, however, were up to the challenge. With their combined might, the door began to scrape across the stone foundations with incredible, yet futile protest.

"Through victory, my chains are broken."

Their leader suddenly strode out ahead of them, taking the stone gate in both hands. With a roar, he pulled at the mass and wrenched it clear of its supports! With an explosion of stone and metal that produced a great fog of dust and sand… the mass hovered high above them, steadied by his trembling hands.

"The Force…" he rasped as he held the mass above him with all the effort he could muster, sweat pouring down his temple in droves, "shall… free… me!"

With this, he let the stone fall. With a thunderous crack, it splintered into pieces upon the ancient floor in a terrible heap. He at last let out a sigh. He had never felt this fatigued, this wearied than in this very moment.

"A sign of what is to come," he mused softly.

 _Indeed, my child._

He stiffened. Though he knew the truth of the matter, he could not help but whirl his eyes around, looking for the speaker.

 _You have come far. Farther than many._

"Thank you, my Lord," he panted in a respectful tone.

 _The Courtyard that you now stand upon has been visited by the bones of many a fool who thought they could wield the power that you, and your fellows, now seek._

"I will not fail you, my Lord. It is my destiny."

 _Indeed it is._

The voice betrayed a sense of acknowledgement that brought a sense of pride to him. But he quickly fought back his growing anticipation. This had been a moment he'd worked towards for years. He could afford to be patient if but for a few more minutes.

 _Come then, my child. Come, and claim the power you seek._

"Yes, my Lord."

With this, he signalled the rest of his followers, and they began their descent into the underworld. Deeper and deeper they went. Through many a hall and shrine. Through where once stood the great Lords of the Sith, now resting within their tombs. The writing of their forebearers marked the walls with illuminating crimson, telling the many tales of their great conquests and discovery.

He felt his anticipation rise again within his chest. His heart felt as though it was going to burst from his ribcage. He steadied himself.

'Soon,' he thought to himself, 'soon.'

Then they came upon another stone gate, blocking their passage.

 _Power is only a means to an end,_ the ancient writing declared upon its stone, _it is not an end in itself._

'Then what is the end?' He thought to himself as he studied the writing more. Then, he understood.

"Power is the key to which I unlock my destiny."

He then gestured his hand at the door, and at his beckoning began its ascension. With a groan and exhaust of dust, the door rose to the ceiling and locked into place.

 _Very good, my young… apprentice._

He stiffened at the word. He would reply, but thought better of it. Instead, he gestured once more to his followers, and marched through the hallway. Moments later, a bright illumination cast its blinding gaze upon him. When he cleared them away, he was greeted by a grand hall cast in deep golds, blacks and reds.

The stone, the metalwork… it looked new. Preserved. It was of the finest craftsmanship, with great pillars of gold and silver lining the walkways of the room; bright flames cast high above in hanging chandeliers. Within the center of the chamber lay an area of sand; dull, dried red marking them ever so slightly. And above that were steps ascending to a great throne, and upon it…

He grimaced. It was merely a hologram, once again.

"You are disappointed, my apprentice?" the hologram asked, his voice like a strained whisper that somehow casted an indomitable power.

"Yes," the young man answered, the tone of his voice sharp but withheld as he gazed upon the towering figure, "I am. I expected you to be here, in the flesh."

"I, however, promised no such thing."

The young man narrowed his eyes.

"I have done all that you have asked. And yet, you do not trust me to greet me in person."

"Yes," the figure nodded knowingly, "but, there is a reason that I do this."

He rose from his chair, the shimmering blue dancing in firelight as he descended the steps. His true height quickly became apparent, towering a heads length above all those below him. And in a blink… he was before him. The young man stared up at the figure; masked in robes of velvet darker than pitch. And yet the face itself was an even darker mass, like peering into starless night.

The figure stared back, the air suddenly become frigid like an arctic world. The lights seemed to dim, and an oppressive feeling lurched out and struck out at the young man's heart, squeezing it. He clutched his chest, falling to his knees, but his eyes did not move. He did not, he would not back down. The figure laughed.

"You prove my point."

The young man's heart was released. He allowed himself to strain for breath as the imposing figure walked past him, his hands clasped behind his back.

"There was another like you. Strong, impulsive… fearless. He became my rival. A challenger to my beliefs, and an upholder to the Ancient Ways," he then whirled on the spot, facing him deathly, "and it was he who nearly saw the end of our Order."

"Palpatine," the young man spat out as he struggled to catch his breath; his heart proving an utter hinderance.

"Yes," even through the hologram, he could feel the man smile, "you know well of him, don't you, boy? Tell me, what was it that caused his downfall? Do you know?"

The younger of the two straightened himself, attempting to regain some of his composure. He thought for a moment.

"He underestimated the loyalty of his… apprentice. The love he had for his son."

The man in the dark, velvet robes merely shook his head.

"No, my child, that was merely a **result**. Sidious' fall began long before that moment. It began with a fatal flaw. Shall I tell you? It is the least I can do."

He took his silence as an answer.

"It was his lack of vision. His lack of purpose."

The younger man stared at him in astonishment.

"He created an Empire," he retorted. The Man in Black merely tutted and shook his head, disappointed.

"Yes, he did," he admitted before asking simply, like a kindly uncle about to tell his nephew a secret, "and what did he do with it?"

"He… forced peace upon the galaxy. He established order where there was chaos."

He laughed.

"Peace, you say? Order? Yes, perhaps for a short while. But within the first years of his Empire, impressive as it may be with its force of arms and infrastructure, one could see it inherited its rulers own hubris. His abstract, unrestrained cruelty."

"But… the way of the Sith is strength."

"Strength without purpose or reason? That, my child, is not strength. It is stupidity."

The younger man gave him a look of… interest. Confusion, yes. But interest.

"Tell me, my child, did Master Skywalker open his doors to all in the galaxy, regardless of status, of birth?"

The younger man nodded.

"Can you tell me why he did that?"

His answer was immediate, and without hesitation. There was… pride in his voice.

"Unc-ahem, Master Skywalker, he… believed, in people. He believed in what they could do."

"Yes," he answered with a smile, "he saw their potential. He saw their spirit! Yes, your uncle was a truly wise man. One who learned to understand his past," he then turned to the arena, contemplating softly, "this was my student's greatest failure."

"He slaughtered countless people… without purpose."

He nodded slowly.

"There is a benefit for being an observer. The Rebellion that rose and vanquished him? He was their unwitting originator. His need to sate his bloodlust, to control trillions of lives and craft worlds in his image earned him the enmity of his subjects. He created his enemy. This is not the way of the Sith. And because of his arrogance… we were nearly extinguished."

"If that is the case, then why didn't we ally with Master Skywalker and his Order?" the younger man drew closer to him, standing beside him in the arena of sand and blood, "Why… why did you ask me to-"

"Because of whom he would have protected," he answered rathersomberly, "you've seen it, my child. This 'New' Republic… it isn't truly New, is it?"

The younger man stared at the sand in silence. And that silence was telling.

"There was once a saying: 'The sins of the Father shall be carried by the sins of the Son'. For as much as the Rebellion attempted to avert the damage done by their predecessors, it was… inevitable, for them to fall into the same trap. Such a waste," he sighed, his somber attitude once more surprising him. He shifted the sands before them, almost drawing with them.

"I respected your uncle for what he accomplished," he said at length, "rebuilding the Order from nothing. Breaking their stagnation. Seeking knowledge in the pursuit of the Force. It is my greatest regret for what had to be done. But," he turned, placing his holographic hand upon the man's shoulder, "you know as well as I that he would have stood in our way. That he would never have accepted our vision, nor understand what the galaxy needs. That for as much as he disagreed with the New Republic, he would have answered their call. For this, he had to be… swept aside… for now."

The younger man's head drooped, his eyes sealing shut. His heart weighed heavily in sorrow as he replayed the events that shaped him, and what he knew he must do. Yet, the screams, the accusing eyes glaring back at him, haunted him. He felt a hand at his chin; gesturing fatherly and bringing his eyes back to the faceless, voidless being before him.

"I did, however, what none before you could, my child. I can feel your sorrow. Your… hatred. And I understand them all too well. But you also know what we must do. Tell me, my apprentice. Tell me, what is your destiny?"

He answered in stoicism, his face hard and proud, his eyes full of meaning and power.

"To save the Galaxy."

"Indeed," he nodded with approval. Then his head drooped in a sense of utter foreboding that chilled the air to the bone, "but… first, there is one final test for you."

"I am ready."

"We shall see."

Upon uttering these words, the eleven other individuals suddenly encircled the pair of them. Shoulder to shoulder, they blocked all escape save for the throne. But, it would be pointless to retreat there.

"Bring him in."

The shudder of a door opened. Two hulking individuals dressed in ornate scarlet and gold cloaks marched in, each dragging the battered and broken man. He whimpered through the bag over his head as the servants dropped him in scattered heap at the feet of the Dark Warriors.

"What is this?"

"Loyalty," the Man in Black answered. The bag was plucked from his head, revealing a bruised and swollen face, purple and black in its severity. The face was unrecognizable. But the brown and gray robes he wore were unmistakable. The uniform of a Jedi.

"This… this is unnecessary," he protested, facing the unfazed look of his master, "you do not need to kill him."

"He is our enemy. He is your enemy. And my child, you have long since made your choice," suddenly the cloaked figures rose to fighting stances. Their over-cloaks fell to the floor, revealing men and women-human and alien-adorned in individualized black armor and robes. Yet, what was most distinct were their masks. Each trimmed in dark armor plating, and silver metal face shields each designed to their own specific fashion. Yet, they each gave off the impression of wolves at a hunt; hungry and utterly vicious to the thrill of the hunt.

Their hollow eyes glared at him, their hands swiftly going to their dominant sides. There laid the trophies of their many, many kills. And quite a few were the hilts of lightsabers. Then, in a flash, eleven crimson sabers blared in their hateful fire, feeling the room with a thick scarlet overture. He could only stare at his would be executioners, knowing what would come if he refused.

"And your choice cannot be easily undone," his master broke his thoughts with the slightest of whispers. He stared down at the fallen Jedi; his eyes meeting the desperate, silent pleading with measured guilt… and knowledge in what he must do.

"Fulfill your destiny, my child. Fulfill your Grandfather's Legacy."

He stared once more at the Jedi before him. Then his hand drew his weapon. A ravenous, flame like blade sprouted from its emitter with an animalistic growl. Then, two more blades sprung from the sides of emitter, bearing much in the way of appearance to that of ancient swords. The Crossguard was an ancient design, found among the first to harness the power of the Lightsaber.

Its fiery color drew a red shadow over the Jedi's face, sealing in that moment his fate. Then, like an executioner's axe, the blade descended in the blink of an eye and the body fell to the floor; cold as the stone on which it lay. The student let out a restrained breath. He felt as though he were in a nightmare. And then he felt the cold, sizzling hand take him by the shoulder; speaking softly… and almost fatherly:

"Well done, my child. Well done."

Then the Knights standing before them raised their sabers in a salute. The Master gestured with a hand, and the student fell to his knees. He felt the simmering hands upon the sides of his face… then he heard the roar of a lightsaber; glimmering softly in the hologram beside his head. Then he noticed the others lowering their sabers together downward… in his honor.

"By the Will of the Ancients, by the Strength of Darkness, by the Right of the Sith… dub thee, I do… Kylo Ren."

Suddenly, a mask like no-other appeared before him, hovering above his head. Black in form, steel in trim, it's faceplate like a shadowed mandible.

"Rise, Lord of the Knights of Ren. Rise… and take your birthright."

And so, he clutched the helm in both hands, rising to his feet. He stared into its obsidian visor, and found… a different man, staring back at him. The man he knew he must become. And in that moment, he donned the helm with a loud hiss, and became that which he must be.

"What is thy bidding, my master?"


	3. Chapter 1 - Amid the Sands

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

Star Wars Rewrite

Episode VII

The Force Awakens

By JSailer and Squasher

It has been three years since the Jedi Order vanished. In its absence, the malevolent **First Order** , the united remnant of the fallen Empire, has expanded out of the Unknown Regions in their effort to reclaim the galaxy.

Standing in their way, however, is the divided and factionalized **New** **Republic.** Lead by

Leia Organa Solo, the galaxy prepares for a conflict not seen since the end of the Clone Wars.

Desperate to gain an advantage in the coming war, Leia has dispatched her most daring pilot to the world of **Jakku** , where a clue to an ancient weapon has been discovered…

* * *

 **Chapter One - Amid the Sands**

* * *

 **Primeday, Nelona 1st**

 **Edge of the Unknown Regions**

 **34 Years after the Battle of Yavin**

* * *

The vacuum of space was quiet. Peaceful, with only the stars to disturb its silent vigil. Resting on the edge of explored space, this frontier colony was far removed from the busy hyperspace lanes that dominated much of the neighboring Core and Mid Rim. Only the desperate and hopeful looking for an escape from the politics of the larger galaxy and the chance to begin again would be found here. Farmers, scavengers, explorers and traders called this sector home, and many did not complain about it's rather boring existence. To them, it was freeing.

Though the worlds here were harsh in their own ways, it was still theirs to decide their own fates. The freedom to choose how they wished to live in relative peace. To many, these worlds were the great unknown to be explored. Worlds to be found, and claims to be staked before someone else did. A place where one could leave their troubles behind.

However, those old enough to remember the days of war and strife knew of this sector's importance. They knew the trouble that had visited it some twenty nine years ago. They remembered the terrible carnage that had taken place there. The place in history it had earned with the countless men buried amongst its arid soil. Soon, however, history would return to this world yet again.

From the corner of the system, an explosion of light blanketed the area. White and blue knives cut their way into the material world, outlining an interdimensional hole that rocked the space all around. Then, in the blink of an eye, something was pulled through. A ship. A ship of importance.

Weary eyes stared through the cockpit armor-glass of the T-70 Incom-FreiTek Space Superiority Fighter, Mark D, though it was better known by its nickname, the X-Wing, due to the shape of its superstructure. The T-70 model was the successor to the legendary workhorse of the old Rebel Alliance. However, this particular T-70 was unique in comparison to its many countless brethren scattered throughout the galaxy. Unlike the traditional primary colors of white and blue seen commonly with the New Republic Navy and Sector Patrol units, this vessel was repainted a stark black with a deep orange trim. And along the battle worn frame was painted the maw of a rancor.

To Commander Poe Dameron, it was a reminder of its time in another war. Another backwater hellhole. But, in the end, against the same enemy. The enemy that he had fought over five years ago, and the same enemy his parents had fought almost thirty years ago. He grumbled silently in the gloom illuminated by the stars as he stared down at his navigation charts.

 _Beep-dum-Boo-voo_

A message in red blocky aurabesh letters read across his screen. He chuckled to himself.

"Yeah, I know. Funny how it is, buddy."

 _Veep-dee-Bee-doo_.

"No, I don't believe in coincidences," he chuckled, "but I suppose I do believe in irony."

He looked out his cockpit again. Down at the bronze colored world. Down at the world that had changed history once and was going to, again.

"Jakku," Poe breathed softly, "never thought I'd be coming here, buddy, lemme tell you."

Another message ran across his screen. This time he could hear the soft, chirping laughter through the comm. system. With a fodder-eating grin, he swiveled in his seat to face his BB-model astromech.

"Just focus on flying straight, Mr. Droid Detective."

The droid's ball-like head swiveled down to face him, its beady photo-black cam-eye glaring down at him. Then the droid slanted its head sideways like a mischievous child about to tell a secret, and closed its cam-eye once like it was winking. Poe laughed heartily.

"I'm gonna hold you to that. If we crash, I'm blaming you."

The droid laughed at him, beaming his astro-speech across his screen. Poe laughed again, glaring narrow-eyed at his rascally roguish backseat driver.

"Oh, how about the time we crashed on training day back at Yavin, hmm? Or that time you got miffed at Lulu's droid for stealing… what was her name?"

 _R2-KT,_ the panel read.

"Right," he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he faced his control panel again, "you do realize that she is like," he paused, doing the math in his head, "fifty years out of your league?"

 _Beep-dee-Bum-doo_

"Oh, you don't care do you? Well, did you care when you tried to ram us into Lulu's E-Wing?"

 _Dum-deep-Bee-duh_

"I don't care if he was mocking you about it! You don't go killing your pilot and my wingman just because his droid stole your girl."

 _Fee-Bum-Boom_

"I keep you on because I like your banter. You keep me sane. Trust me, I would die of boredom out here with anybody else. You at least have some sass, and you entertain me."

 _Beep-Deep-Boo_

"At this rate? We keep each other out of trouble, BB-8."

 _Vee-Bee-Bidi-Boo_

"Oh shut up, you oversized grav-ball. Wait," his eyes went back to his comm. screen, noticing the incoming transmission. He pressed several panel options and opened the incoming message. It contained a set of coordinates.

"BB-8, check with the-"

The droid already had the answer ready.

"The Goazan Badlands," Poe breathed soberly, closing his eyes in remembrance. BB-8 chirped comfortingly behind him. Poe simply nodded.

"Yeah, I know. I'm taking us in."

Once upon a time, Jakku had been the site of the largest naval engagement since the Battle of Coruscant. Hundreds of ships, thousands of fighters, battalions of men and armor fighting on the ground. All exchanging fire in the space surrounding the planet like the wrath of deities. Ships exploded on impact from hundreds of turbolasers, others rammed into each other in the confined and crowded space, some even collided just by coming out of hyperspace. For seventy-hours, the navies of the New Republic and the remnants of the Galactic Empire turned a once quiet colony into a savage battlefield as each side refused to back down, each convinced it was in the right.

In the end, the battle had ended in a stalemate. Both fleets, too battered and exhausted to continue, limped back to their defensive positions on either side of the planet; ordering the men on the ground to dig into whatever position they'd managed to take. For weeks, they'd watched the other in measured contemplation; waiting for orders that never came. Waiting for the end that came in the halls of politics.

His parents had fought in that battle. Their stories had haunted him. The actions of that day had haunted the galaxy, and set the stage for the present. A bloody conflict that had yet to be resolved. A war that never really ended.

"We're coming in, buddy," Poe called BB-8 over the comm.'s, "set the aft shields 60 degrees."

The X-Wing roared through the night sky under a dazzle of heat. Fire burned off the sides of the blue-tinted shields like the fall of angels. Then, a moment later, they hit the upper atmosphere. Steam billowed off the craft as it glided through the cloud cover. As the vessel settled, Poe hit the bow lights.

"By the Force," he gasped. There, in the valleys below, was a graveyard. A graveyard of thousands of souls. Everywhere was debris. Everywhere were the evidence of the climactic end to a climactic war.

There were fighters strewed across every surface. X-Wings, TIE Fighters, Interceptors, A-Wings… he soon lost count as his craft flew over the long since burned out corpses covered in the sand. He looked left, and he saw the torn half of a Blockade Runner; it's engine pods scattered among the hills behind it. He looked left…

 _A Star Destroyer,_ he thought in awe, _an Imperial II Class._

The mile long ship was buried in the sand, it's bridge section missing. BB-8 chirped a warning and he pulled up, gliding over a dune. Then he saw them. More Star Destroyers. Among them Blockade Runners, Nebulons, Raider Class Cruisers… a Mon-Cal.

 _Five, six, seven,_ he quickly lost count. He didn't even bother trying to count the walkers and grav-tanks that littered the battlefield. His father's words, his mother's words rang loud in his head like a brass bell tolling at noon. A sense of foreboding ate right into his bones with cold that stiffened his nerves.

"I'd never seen so much death," he repeated to himself. BB-8 quickly agreed. Poe suddenly found it strangely fitting that the planet's surface had a red palate to it. He had the disturbing image of the blood of the fallen pooling into the sand like upon a canvas. BB-8 quickly interrupted his mind with a warning.

"' _Never look back, Poe. It distracts from the now.'"_

Poe nodded. "Let's get what we came here for."

Thirty minutes later, they found it. It was a long stretching canyon system made up of deep arroyos and dipping valleys that Poe guessed once formulated some aquatic trench. Suddenly, on either side of Poe's X-Wing rose from the darkness a pair of older Z-95 Headhunters who shadowed his approach. BB-8 beeped in utter surprise, and scornfully chirped at his pilot. Poe simply shrugged.

"Buddy, you wouldn't be able to scan 30 meters in this terrain."

His mind raced as the fighters continued to trail him. A dozen opportunities presented themselves to elude his captors, but almost all of them depended upon the starfighters not shooting him down immediately if he took an evasive maneuver.

Suddenly, his radio squawked as a distinctive Ryl accent came online, " _Unidentified vessel, this is restricted airspace. Identify yourself, or you will be fired upon, over."_

"This is Commander Poe Dameron of Black Squadron, 75th Fighter Wing. Counselor Organa sent me, over."

A second voice possessing the metallic bass of a Duros chuckled, " _A Flying Rancor, eh? Never thought we'd have a war hero in our midst."_

Poe chuckled back with a wry grin, "The Rancors Bite Back with a Vengeance."

" _Indeed,"_ the Ryl voice replied, " _we've been expecting you, Commander Dameron. We're to escort you back to our base, over."_

"Acknowledged, over."

Quickly, the Headhunters took point, turning on their own searchlights and diving into the canyon pass below. Though outdated by a few generations, the old Incom fighters were reliable and modifiable for any situation thrown at it. Poe had flown quite a few back in the Academy and had a great respect for them. Though, he wouldn't trade his own X-Wing for anything else. She'd served him well during the Outer Rim Crisis.

Then, as the vessels cleared the passway, he found himself in a long clearing flanked by rising canyons.

"' _A dried up lake bed?'"_ BB-8 asked. Poe shrugged.

"I'm a pilot, not a geologist."

Towards the back of the canyon was a village that lit up with a multitude of lights. The Headhunters banked right, and Poe spotted the signal lights below.

"Alright, I'm taking us in. BB-8, prepare the landing cycle."

In an exhaust of sand and dust spewing out like a whirlwind, the X-Wing slowed to a hovering pattern and finally touched down upon the make-ship runway. BB-8 chirped sarcastic about the landing.

Poe simply smirked back at him, "A good landing is any you can walk away from. Certainly more than I can say about you."

 _Veep-Bee-Dee_

"Don't make me punt you, you floating techno-ball."

Poe quickly unstrapped himself and slowly rose from his cockpit. Below him, he was greeted by a dozen raised blasters. Poe smiled winningly and spread his arms wide.

"Hey, hey! I'm so very sorry I'm late to the party! Believe me, nobody told me just how long the lines are for Corellian Brew. Must've been standing there for hours on end. And that's not even mentioning all those little kiddies clambering over me, just begging for a joy ride on my X-Wing!"

The men chuckled, and lowered their blasters. Poe just as quickly descended from the nose of his fighter, removing his helmet. Poe was of average height and build with rather handsome angular features, tanned skin and wavy brown hair. All in all, he looked more like the face of some famous celebrity on a recruitment poster than one of the New Republic's most distinguished fighter pilots. But Poe didn't mind that much; it did wonders when on leave in the bars of the far reaches of the galaxy.

With a loud hiss, the holding clamps on the astromech slot opened, and BB-8 shot right out of his seat. He landed in freefall before his anti-grav thrusters kicked in, hovering over the desert sands. BB-8 was a rather unique model, and one the scruffy desert men couldn't help but gawk at. His head was dome shaped, his body rectangular with repulsors jutting out like the stumps of legs. He was orange and gray in trimming, and narrowed slit-eyes like an angry cyclops.

As they drew closer, BB-8 suddenly produced an arc-caster from his chest, jutting out deadly volts of electricity as he chirped out a challenge to them. The man answered by raising their blasters at the floating ball of sass, and BB-8 simply laughed at them.

Poe shook his head in annoyance, "Buddy, why do you always have to go picking a fight everywhere we go?"

BB-8 turned his head and winked at his owner, chirping a boast.

"Yeah? Well one of these days you're going to run into something as stubborn as you are, and I'm not cleaning up the mess."

BB-8 scoffed at him, then suddenly advanced on the blaster-wielding men like he was going to charge. They backed rather skittishly and the floating droid laughed merely; holstering his arc-caster.

"That droid is going to get you into a lot of trouble," an elderly voice suddenly shot out from behind the mass of men, "he mistakes gallantry with foolhardy."

The desert men stepped aside as perhaps the oldest man Poe had ever seen stepped forward to greet him. He was tall, thin and grizzled with snow white hair and rather gaunt expressions. However, this was contrasted starkly with his eyes. They were the eyes of a young man, eager for adventure and discovery. Eyes that Poe felt had seen the wonders of the universe and was still hungry for more.

"Believe me, I know, sir," he smiled at the elderly man before he extended his hand, "Commander-"

"Poe Dameron," the older man replied with a sanguine smile as he took his hand with a strength beside his age, "hero of the Antiga Sector and Bane of the First Order. Yes, I have heard a great many things about you."

"As I have of you, Mr. Tekka."

"Oh please, Commander. Call me Lor San. I haven't been called by my last name since I left the Archeological Guild."

Poe smiled like a child in the arms of a kindly uncle, "The Counselor speaks very highly of you, sir."

"Oh? Counselor, is she now?" he replied with a grin, "I much rather prefer Princess."

"I don't think she's been called that in a long time, sir."

"Oh, she will always be royalty to me, Commander. Come," he took the younger by the shoulder, "I have something to show you."

"I must ask, sir, but how did you-"

"Come to this place, so far away from actual dig sites and the prestige establishments? Master Skywalker put me up to this."

Poe stopped in his tracks, eyes wide in amazement, "Do you know where he is?"

"Sadly, no," he replied grimly, "like you, I lost contact with his Order three years ago. But before he disappeared, Luke asked me to look into something. A mystery, if you will. And as his good friend, I was more than happy to oblige."

"How did you come to, well, know him?"

"Ah, intrigued by the Legend of Luke Skywalker, are we?"

"Well," Poe laughed embarrassingly, rubbing his hand through his hair, "we studied him and his father's tactics back in the Academy. Plus my flight instructor, Antilles, well, he liked to talk about him a great deal."

"Yes," Lor San smiled warmly, "Luke changed a great many lives. Especially mine. In the days of the Empire, there wasn't much interest in the study of the past or the ancient cultures, not with Palpatine controlling the flow of information to suit his fancy. Then, one day, a young man came to me with an offer of a lifetime. He wanted my help to discover the long lost secrets of the Jedi that hadn't yet been destroyed."

Poe eyes widen. "You helped build the Order?"

"Oh, I merely dug up old archives and found lost temples. But Luke was always one to show his gratitude. I am not of the Force, but he always considered me an honorary member. I am not afraid to admit that those were the happiest days of my life."

"I can certainly see why."

Parting through the adobe village, they soon came across what Poe could only describe as a sinkhole, descending down into a cavernous depth like a black hole rising from the embers of a supernova.

Lor San noticed the look on the younger man's face, and asked, "Did the Princess tell you what it was you were coming to collect?"

Poe shook his head, "With us being so close to the Unknown Regions, she didn't want to take the risk if I was captured."

"Understandable. Please, this way."

They stepped onto an elevator system, slowly descending down into the depths below. For the first part, there was absolute darkness only broken up by BB-8's torch. The droid beeped in discomfort, the sound echoing off of the walls deep into the world below.

"I know," Poe nodded in agreeance, "this place spooks me, too."

He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was somehow worse than when he'd seen the graveyard. Somehow. Like an oppressive cold that he couldn't warm from.

"I do not blame you," Lor San interrupted his thoughts, "not a soul has stepped into this place for many thousands of years."

"How did you find this place?"

"Very carefully."

Then they passed a certain point and Poe could see light at the bottom. And when the platform hit the ground, his fear had turned into awe.

"By the Force," he breathed. For before him was a city. A city of stone and metal. Where great and towering monuments and spires, ruined yet in grandeur stood. It was unlike anything he'd seen before, even by the temples of the Massassi on Yavin.

It was as if he'd stepped into another world.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" Lor San asked with an aged smile. Poe could only shake his head in utter astonishment; his mouth agape. BB-8 answered with a chirp of an equal shock; gazing at everything in sight.

"You said it, buddy."

The two men walked amongst the ancient streets, flanked by an army of workers unearthing the ruins. Poe looked left and right to the towering temples, ascribed with pictographs depicting the populace before otherworldly beings. Worshipping. Presenting gifts. Poe could not speak, but only gawk at the sights before him with BB-8 practically clinging to him.

And yet beside it all was Lor San Tekka, who walked amongst the souls of the ancients like a stroll in a market. His face was strangely impassive.

"Take it in, my good son," he answered solemnly, "for you may not see it again."

"I don't understand."

"There are secrets here. Secrets that in the wrong hands could spell disaster for the galaxy. And because of its location along the Demilitarized Sectors, it will not be long before we are discovered."

Poe nodded. The Demilitarized Sector was a buffer zone in all but name where the military forces of the galaxies superpowers couldn't set foot in. However, the First Order had no scrubbles breaking intergalactic law if they could get away with it. And with the state of the Senate and the Assembly, that was something they could do often. Even Poe, an officer in the New Republic Navy, was here illegally.

Finally, Poe asked the obvious question that had been sitting in the back of his mind since he'd stepped foot here, "What is this place?"

"A temple of the ancient Rakata."

"The Rakata?"

"The first of the intergalactic civilizations to harness their power to carve out an Empire. An Empire that spanned much of the known galaxy. There are many such temples like this, scattered throughout what used to be their territory."

"What happened to them?"

"What happens to most Empires. They fell, in part due to the First Jedi. However, their secrets and history are still buried amongst their ruins… including that which the Princess has sent you to retrieve."

"Which is?"

"Their greatest secret. The secret to the success of their power. Come, I shall show you."

He quickly took the lead down the many trodden paths until, at last, they came across a mighty dome acropolis; painted gold in the light above. Through the ruined gates, the three entered. And there, they found the remnant power that once sailed the stars and inspired others to follow in their wake. For within the hall stood a monument of an alien Poe had never seen before. It reminded him of the Mon-Cal in its fish-like appearance, but it was taller and leaner with a malevolent awe that made Poe realize the natural cruelty it possessed.

Standing tall, it's hand risen to the skies, was an orb. Lor San suddenly stepped forward, and the stone block beneath him sank. And with that, the orb simmered with great power. Lights dazzled all around them. BB-8 cowered beneath Poe as he whirled all around in the path of the illumination.

Then the lights shot outward towards the center of the dome, and began to spread. It was then that Poe understood what this place was. It's purpose. It was an astrological hall… and there, spread across the constructed canvas above, was a star chart. Thousands of stars and systems dotted the room, but something was off.

Poe did not recognize most of these formations presented here. He, of course, saw the center star holding the galaxy together. He could make out certain worlds within the Core and Inner Rim, but most of them were of the Unknown Regions. It came to him. The map was incomplete, clearly one of the few pieces that needed to be put together.

"Yes," Lor San nodded, "by the look of your face, you too understand."

By these words, Poe's mind returned to his mission. "BB-8, start documenting the map, and create a holographic dimensional chart."

The droid nodded, and diverted power to his thrusters. He rose high into the dome, flashes arcing out above as he began his work. Poe turned back to Lor San.

"You said this place held the secret to their success. What secret is that?"

"One that the First Order and the Empire before them have been searching for. An arcane technology so great it allowed the ancient Sith to dominate much of the galaxy. In the records, they were known as Star Forges."

"A Forge? You mean like a factory."

"Exactly that. These Forges were powered by the Dark Side of the Force; capable of non-stop production of any imaginable material."

"Like Star Dreadnaughts."

"Among other things."

Oh yes. That was something the First Order would most definitely want to get their hands on.

"How many of these things are there?"

"Only one. The rest were destroyed many years ago during the age of the Old Republic."

"But how do you know this one wasn't destroyed, as well?"

"I think you already know the answer to that."

Poe turned back up the map above, and his droid taking holo-shots of the images. He remembered again that the most complete section was of the Unknown Regions.

"The Rakatan's reach was beyond any imaginable," Lor San explained as he stood shoulder to shoulder with him, "they dominated every star and enslaved every race. According to my research, they had a Forge within every seat of power, which became five. Three of these were destroyed during their fall, the fourth by the Jedi during the Sith Wars. If this map is accurate, then the fifth and last of them lies somewhere within the Unknown Regions."

"And probably close to First Order Space."

"Indeed," Lor San then turned back to the younger man, his face grim and somber, "once your droid has finished, we shall return to the surface. And in turn, seal the entrance once more."

There was a great deal of pain on the archaeologists face, and Poe understood why.

"I am sorry it has to come to this. This place looks like it would take years to fully document."

"Better it be lost again then be found by the enemy."

Suddenly, a young boy came running into the room; frantic and out of breath. "M-mr. Tekka! Mr. Tekka!"

"What is it, boy?"

"The men, t-they say that strange ships have jumped into the sector!"

Poe's face hardened into that common amongst warriors. "We've got company."


	4. Chapter 2 - Troopers

**Chapter Two - Troopers**

* * *

 **High Orbit of Jakku**

 **Resurgent Class Star Destroyer** _ **Ravager**_

* * *

" _This is not a drill,"_ the intercoms barked again, " _I say again, this is not a drill. We are engaging the enemy. All combat companies, please report to your designated areas."_

FN-2187 watched the passing Troopers, the rank and file in their heavy armor indistinguishable from one another save for differences in their height and body weight, plus the additional gear strapped to their chests. He could only shake his head at the ever growing feeling riding in his stomach. He wasn't sure what to call it. It wasn't exactly fear or worry. No, he wasn't afraid, at least not for himself.

He pressed his lean but powerful frame against the bulk-way. Even his body felt utterly tense; the red hue of the alarms painting sharply against his dark skin. Many had often compared his physical traits to that of a Jungle Panther in a hunt, and at the moment he felt it. He felt ready. After all, this was what they'd been training their whole lives to eventually do, but yet something felt… off.

"So," a soft voice full of apprehension sounding behind his back only added to his thoughts and gave them a sense of vindication, "this is it, huh?"

He turned around, staring at the speaker in question. Now he understood what he was feeling. He wasn't worried for himself. He was worried for them. For his fireteam.

"I suppose it is," he nodded knowingly, his voice low and heavy like a perpetual growl, "how are you feeling, Slip?"

FN-2003's eyes darted to the floor, his thin and wiry face somehow becoming even more hollow. He looked more like a scared boy than a battle hardened soldier. "I don't know, I just… don't know."

"Ah don't tell me you're scared now, Slippy!" a boisterous, almost barking voice roared from behind them, causing Slip to flinch and whip around with his hands ready to fight. FN-2199, or Nines, had that effect on most people. He shifted his large frame over, running his hand through his red hair as he set his sharp blue eyes on Slip.

"Tell you what, if things get so bad out there, I'll make a use outta you! I'll use your corpse as a shield!"

"Go sod yourself, Nines."

"Ooh, what do we have here, eh? Finally growing some guts, you wimpy little-"

A resounding crack suddenly echoed in the room. Nines dropped to the ground, massaging his shoulder gingerly as he growled at his attacker.

"Damnit, Zeros! Why'd you-"

"Silence!"

FN-2000 glared down at the fallen Nines, his owlish eyes putting him into still silence. He then spoke, his words short, harsh, and to the point. "You talk too much."

"Really? Just noticed that, Mr. By-the-Book with a stick up your-"

"Bloody buffoon," he snarled, his avian features exemplifying his rage, "perhaps I should knock some discipline into your skull."

"I'd like to see you try!"

Nines rose faster than his deceptive physique suggested, and was dogging Zeros nose to nose in the span of a blink. He grinned wryly at him, his eyes casually inviting their unspoken challenge. Zeros wasn't one to back down from it either, and was just willing to throw down with his rival like they had many times over. This however ended as it always did.

"Enough!" Eighty-Seven bellowed. Nines and Zeros quickly backed away, and along with Slip, stiffened to attention.

"Thank you," he nodded simply before marching over to his bunk to acquire his helmet and rifle before smartly about-facing, "this is not a training mission on Parnassos. Do you all understand?"

They all nodded.

"We're not fighting against some savages with sticks. This is real. We do not have the luxury of making mistakes," he eyed them deeply, softening his tone as he continued, "but this? This is what we've been training is what we were born to do. We are the best of the best, so let's go act like it."

"Now that sounds like a plan!" Nines grinned rather manically, "Sooner we get down there and pound us some _Rebs_ , the happier I'll be!"

"For once, Nines," Zeros admitted somberly, "I agree with you."

Eighty-Seven nodded curtly, and they quickly went about finishing their gearing up process. He watched them silently at work, musing rather randomly at the contradiction of his men. They may fight like children at times, but they were brothers and fought together like brothers. This was to be their first true deployment, he knew, but he was confident in them. He meant it when he said they were the best.

Surprisingly, Slip was the first to finish out of the bunch. He set aside his helmet and went to work quickly checking his F-11e Blaster Rifle, effortlessly and methodically disassembling it and inspecting the various parts then just as quickly putting them back together. Then he did it again, and again. Eighty-Seven shook his head and took the man by his armored pauldron. Slip flinched, then stiffened again; his eyes looking out into nothing in particular.

"Are you okay, Slip?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but he just as quickly shut it.

"Speak, Slip. What's on your mind?"

"I…" he began, staring down at the rifle in his hands, "I don't want to let you down, Eighty-Seven."

"You're not going to. But I want you to stay close to me. Do you understand?"

Slip nodded rather subdued. Eighty-Seven patted him on the back, his hand echoing off the armor plate. "You're going to do fine, Slip. I know it."

Nines was next to finish, which was again surprising. As their heavy weapons specialist, Nines had the privilege and burden of carrying his issued FWMB-10 Heavy Repeating Blaster, or as he called it, _the Mega_. It was a big bulky weapon with a long black barrel shroud and a heavy tripod for stationary, defensive fire. But he carried it around well enough, and along with multitude of power-packs strapped to his chest and back via the black harness vest. He quickly shouldered his weapon, and actually trotted over to Zeros bunk; handing him his helmet.

Zeros looked at him suspiciously, and Nines again gestured with the helmet. This exchange, however, did not surprise Eighty-Seven. The moment _The Mega_ was in Nines' arms, he was almost a different man. Their training took over. When their helmets were donned and only the hollow black eyes gave any indication of the men underneath, they became almost machine in their function.

They were soldiers raised in the art of killing. It was all that they knew. And it was what they were born to do. Suddenly, the intercom blared again. " _Aurek Company, report to the Hangar Bay for debriefing. I repeat, Aurek Company, report to the Hangar Bay."_

"That's us," Eighty-Seven replied as he finally donned his helmet, leading his men out into the hall to join the rest of his company. They were going to war.

* * *

She heard them long before they entered the hangar bay. Sixty-four pairs of footfalls thundering through the tightly constructed bulkheads and blast-shields as they marched in thorough, well kempt columns. Officers and Non-com's bellowed out commands, and they were executed perfectly. Wheels were performed, and the individual platoons filed off in organized patterns with squads standing shoulder to shoulder at full attention. An officer then bellowed the order to present arms, and the slaps of their weapons against their armor plating sounded out in a synchronized fashion.

FN-0001, Captain Phasma to her fellow officers, smiled behind her chrome-steel helmet. Pride in its purest form ran through her mind as she looked them over from a distance. She marched about them, towering above all in her aged chrome-plated armor and her black velvet cape flowing behind her wake. She inspected them in their full state of readiness, and her smile grew even wider. They were marvelous, perfectly disciplined, and in their armor they looked like the finest of masonry.

The individual Troopers stared at her behind their helmets with the same level of pride, and in some ways apprehension of her approval. She stopped in mid-stride, and ordered rather softly, "Take your seats, Troopers."

As they clambered to the floor, she stared out at them once more, and as per tradition, removed her helmet with a _hiss._ Phasma, unlike the men and women sitting before her, was not born into the militarized arms of the First Order. Rather, she'd hailed as the sole survivor of her tribe from the nuclear ravaged world of Parnassos where exposure to the chemical charged sandstorms would be enough to melt the skin off anyone not wearing proper protection. Her pale white skin and almost golden hair were stark indications of a woman who hadn't seen the sun past the visor of her helmet. She was hardy in her appearance; a warrior forged of the finest of steel.

But her icy eyes were utterly soft when she beheld her children. As the crook of her arm brought her helmet to her hip, the company swiftly removed theirs in the purest sign of respect. She nodded at the close shaven men and women staring up at her. At the woman many of them considered to be their mother.

"My sons. My daughters," she began with a voice as motherly as her status allowed, pacing slowly between the columns, "how wonderful you look."

There was subdued laughter amongst the ranks. She allowed it with a subtle smile.

"It has been my honor, and my pleasure to train you. To **raise** you, into the finest warriors the First Order, and the galaxy, could ask for," she then paused in her approach, adding with a small, quickened smile, "I will not lie. You all make me very proud of myself for having produced such handsome looking killers."

Another laugh. Another smile.

"Now, on the planet below lies an enemy force. Proxies fighting on behalf of the **New Republic** ," she said the name with absolute disgust, "the remnants of the Jedi's private army. The Antarian Rangers."

The faces before her grew hard with determination, respect… but also seething, controlled hatred. They knew well of the enemy's history. Men and women, human and alien, who had volunteered to fight alongside the Jedi at the times when the galaxy itself turned its back on them. Their reputation as warriors of unflinching courage commanded well their own apprehension.

"Many of these men have been fighting since before you were born. Some of them, as our esteemed intel boys tell me, fought at Endor and Jakku thirty years ago."

The mere mention of those names set them back to their days in the classroom, remembering the places of shame that had brought down the Empire of old. The places etched firmly in the minds of every soldier, every citizen within the enclaves of the First Order.

"These men are tough. They are determined. But they are also old. Past their fighting primes as warriors. You, my beautiful children, shall crush them into the desert floor like the scum that they are!"

"Ura!" the company chanted with fervor. Phasma nodded in pure satisfaction. She had come a long way from the single surviving child who had helped the First Order gain a foothold upon her scorched world. It was a place where only the strongest could survive, and the perfect ground to create the perfect soldier. After exacting vengeance upon the savage rivals who had taken away her family, Phasma was determined to form a new tribe. A stronger tribe; one that would take the galaxy back from those who had abandoned her people generations before.

One to take her revenge.

"Now, I must remind you that these men are merely Proxies. As such, we are not yet at war with the ones who command them, and so our presence here must remain an absolute secret. We shall show no quarter. We shall show no mercy. We shall descend upon them, and we shall exterminate all who stand in our way."

Once more, the company roared in approval. All except for two. Eighty-Seven had mimicked the appearance of shouting, but no words had come from his mouth. His eyes darted sideways, and he noticed that Slip was doing the same. Their eyes met for the briefest, yet most meaningful of moments.

A silent conversation played out between them. A wariness of the jingoism chanting around them, and yet the urging to do their duty the best they could. They took no pleasure in the prospect of slaughtering _all_ who stood in their way. But they knew as soldiers, their responsibility dictated that they were to follow the orders of their superiors and complete the mission before them. As brothers, however, their greater responsibility was to each other, and the promise to get the other out alive.

Eighty-Seven's was more pressing than this, however. His mission, his own personal command ordered him to get **all** of his men through this in one piece to fight another day. He would do his duty. But he would not fall prey to fanaticism. His men mattered far too much for him to ever fall into that trap.

Phasma then procured a holonet display of a weathered man deep within his old age, waving it in her hands.

"Our mission is to capture this man, Lor San Tekka. Lor San is an archeologist. A man who digs up old bones and ruins. And apparently, he has found something that my superiors have taken a great fancy to. We shall secure him, and whatever it is he has discovered. Once both are in our possession, and any witnesses have been silenced, we shall extract and leave this system before the New Republic comes knocking. Any questions?"

Nines rose and bellowed, "When will we finally get to kill us some proper _Rebs,_ ma'am?"

Phasma smiled, "Soon, FN-2199. Soon, we will get to kill us some proper Rebs! But what about the rest of you? Are you going to let this boy do all the work?"

The company rose in unison, shouting, "We want to kill us some proper _Rebs_ , ma'am!"

"Ooh. You've made this old lass very happy," she laughed, "now, your Platoon Commanders will fill you in on the rest of your battlefield notes. I will see you on the ground."

She then put her helmet back on, the seals locking in with a _hiss_. Her voice thundered through her filter voice comms, " _Dis-MISSED!"_

The company rose to their feet; donning their helmets as they replied, " _Aye-Aye, Ma'am!"_

As they about faced, the platoons filed off at a running pace. Lights went off, voice intercoms barked. Their footfalls thundered their approach as they boarded their dropships. This was it. The culmination of defeats, reorganizing and preparation. It had all led to this.

War was just a few minutes away.


	5. Chapter 3 - Landfall

**Chapter Three - Landfall**

* * *

 **Jakku**

 **The Goazan Badlands**

* * *

As they rose from the darkness with the creaking of the elevator ringing in his ears, Poe could feel the coming storm biting deep into his bones. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as the night above came into view. He didn't need to hear the clamour of movement and panic to know it was there, waiting for him.

"' _Oh boy,'"_ BB-8 chirped nervously.

"I know, buddy," Poe nodded, "I know."

His sixth sense was screaming at him. Danger was coming, and he needed to get out. Panic bit into his gut, and urged him to get a move on. It was the same feeling, the same screaming voice that had bellowed into his ears on his first deployment. When the subtle changes in the air told the young Lieutenant Poe Dameron that decommissioned TIE/In-Fighters were on his tail long before the warning signals blared out the lock-on sequence.

He, however, fought back the growing fear with a shot of pure confidence some might've mistaken for cockiness. Experience had taught him that things were often going to play out one way or another. The best thing for him to do was to play those odds the best he could and pray for the best. Fortunately for him, his luck was enduring.

"I am sorry for this," Poe said in the gloom, "I have the feeling you guys would be down there for months, digging through the dirt and such."

Lor San Tekka merely nodded. "It is no fault of yours, my young friend. Better the knowledge here be buried forever rather than fall into the hands of those who would abuse its power."

The ground suddenly shook, and the two men fought to maintain their footing on the rickety platform. Sand fell in from the top in droves. Poe grimaced at the sight. That had been from a Proton Bomb, and as the ground shook with further tribulation, he knew that the two Headhunters up top wouldn't last long against a concentrated attack.

The moment the skies were clear, they would be landing ground troops.

"BB-8, have you compiled the information into an accessible file?"

"' _I have,_ the droid chirped at him, "' _but the shots I got are still fragmented. I ain't a cartographer, somebody else will have to put it together. I ain't paid enough for that!'"_

"You aren't even paid!"

"' _Get R2-KT transferred over to our squadron and I'll call it even.'"_

"After the stunt you pulled? You're lucky they didn't scrap you!"

"' _They can't scrap me! I'm irresistible!'"_

"Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that. Have you encoded the message?"

"' _Working on it. Should be done by the time we get back to the ship.'"_

"That's if we get back," Poe grumbled softly. A moment later, the elevator hit the top locking latch with a _snap,_ and Poe ducked to the ground as another bomb went off close by and showered them in sand. Lor San, however, stood tall in defiance in the ever present storm.

"You are too late!" he shouted to the sky with a raised fist, "The Jedi shall rise again! You shall fall as your predecessors fell before you!"

Poe was about to shout for him to get down, but he didn't bother. Lor San had been among the billions who had suffered under the rule of the Empire, and he was not going to cower before its malignant shadow again. Poe rose to his feet, and saw before him a world on fire.

"By the Force," he cursed softly as it stared at it dumbfounded. The air was cast black as pitch from the smoke and fire radiating from the village as unforeseen shadows wailed like banshees; casting emerald bolts from high above that ripped apart the ground and shook it with a ferocious fervor. Then out of the pitch, the batlike form of an enemy fighter screamed overhead. It was close enough for Poe to almost touch it, and he took in the design at a glance. It was clearly a TIE design, probably from the traitorous Sienar-Jaemus splinter group that had left their mother company almost a decade before.

However, it wasn't like the old generation TIE/In models he'd fought over Antiga Primar almost five years ago. It was sleeker and almost flat in its profile with contrasting black and white paint patterns. What troubled him more, though, was that the cockpit looked too… small.

"What, they got an Ewok in there?"

Suddenly, one of the Headhunters zoomed over them in pursuit, chasing the fighter over the width of the valley. But the TIE was performing maneuvers he could hardly believe! It was banking sharply from left to right with speeds that should've been physically impossible. Poe could almost feel the pilots frustration as he had to come about on long arcs to get the fighter back in his sight. As the fighter pulled yet another physically impossible dive and turn, he then realized it: the fighter was a drone!

Another blast shook him from his stupor, and he quickly made his way to cover. He knew to run out now to his X-Wing was a sure fire way to get him and BB-8 killed. He would have to wait until they cleared the skies and started their landing before he'd make a run for it.

"Wait, where's Lor San?"

He whipped around to see him approaching a panel over the digsite. A scurry of workers ascended from the lifts and hurried past him; making a beeline for the village. Lor San grabbed the arm of one of the men, and asked him something he couldn't understand. Then he nodded, and lifted a control box. A moment later, an explosion far exceeding the ones peppering the land for the past minute thundered through the ground like an earthquake.

The dig site went up in flames and sand reaching hundreds of feet up into the air, massive boulders and chunks of rock coming down like artillery shells. A squadron of Drones were struck down like the casted thunderbolt of a deity upon a monster; sending them hurtling into the ground below in a blaze of fire. The Headhunter zoomed past Poe's head and went after another squadron; scoring a kill that made him smile. But then more of the Drones were upon him, and Poe's mind flashed back to Instructor Antilles' lessons on the Battle of Coruscant. Images of brave but vastly outnumbered ARC-170 pilots being cut to pieces by swarms of Droid-Fighters echoed in his head as the Headhunter was struck several times in the wings.

It doggedly fought on despite the thick trail of smoke billowing from its engines, and Poe silently prayed despite the hopelessness of it. The Headhunter swung around, firing madly into the Drones chasing him. One went down. Then another. Then one of the Drones drastically changed its flight pattern, arching straight up and crashing right into the underbelly of the Headhunter; tearing it in half in an arching fireball that rocketed high up into the air before coming down in a billowing crash.

BB-8 cursed obscenities so foul that Poe dare not repeat them, or even comment on them. It was unnerving to him the utter futility of it. The pilots had displayed skill and gallantry rivaling any fighter pilot in the New Republic Navy, and yet they had been brought down by sheer weight of unending numbers. Like crows at a graveyard, the Drones circled the battlefield as the stars themselves seemed to burn in the night sky. Then, in less than a blink, the Drone squadrons disappeared upward like they'd never been there in the first place. Poe knew what was coming next, and he took his chance.

He took off at a run, the precious few seconds he had ticking down loudly in his ears.

* * *

Aboard the Heavy Armored Aerial Transport, Eighty-Seven felt a cold sweat run down his spine despite the thermal suit lining his body keeping a regulated temperature. It wasn't fear that he was feeling. It was anticipation. Though this wasn't his first taste of combat, this felt far more… real. All those years of fighting primitive savages didn't really stock up to going into battle against an enemy slinging blaster bolts at you rather than under-powered slugs.

The dropship buckled upon entering atmo. He felt a steely resolution come to mind as the ship tossed and turned from turbulence. He had his men. His squad, his brothers. The men he had grown up with since he'd been born in First Order space.

They would be enough.

"We will be going in with the first wave," the platoon leader, Lieutenant Junior-Grade FN-2145 or L-Tee as his men called him, cut across his thoughts through the intercom next to his ear, "the domeheads should have softened them up plenty enough for us by the time we hit the ground."

"I hope not," Nines boomed across the squads channel, "more Rebs for us to kill!"

Suddenly, an image popped up in Eighty-Seven's visor. The old man.

"Remember your orders, boys. Mr. Tekka, and any of his research team are to be taken alive. Anybody else are considered to be hostile, and are to be dealt with as such. Lethal force is authorized."

Eighty-Seven could feel the man smile as he roared out, "In other words, you will smash the entire area! You kill anything not wearing white, you get me!?"

" _WE GET YOU, SIR!"_ The Troopers barked as one. Now the turbulence kicked up into high gear, the troopers shaking violently in their seats. Nines howled with mad pleasure while Zeros chanted some regulation verses. Eighty-Seven could only make out some of it before the channel grew static from the landfall:

"The Stormtrooper shall master all weapons, and all battlefields. The Stormtrooper shall stand as an example of purity and order in the chaotic void, and shall stand firm in the face of all opposition. The Stormtrooper shall know no fear, and they shall know no defeat."

Slip was silent. Utterly silent. Not a breath was heard on his comm. channel as he inspected his weapon again and again. Adjusting sights, powerpack, the magnetic connection in his glove to the grip. It was like he was working through a mental manual. It was rather… meditative.

"Hey," Eighty-Seven gestured to him, and he looked up. Though he couldn't see Slip's eyes, he could still feel the tension practically radiating from him. Oddly enough, his heart monitor was steady. He was the most calm out of the dropship. Eighty-Seven shook his head, _It's a good disguise… but it's still just that._

Eighty-Seven took him by the shoulder comfortingly.

"You're gonna do fine, Slip. You just stay close to me."

Slip nodded, his BPM going up sharply before being regulated to normalcy.

"Thank you, Eighty-Seven," he whispered, and then shouldered his weapon, "I won't let you down."

"I know you won't."

The intercom suddenly barked out in the silent confinements, the pilots tone sharp and quick.

" _ETA 30 Seconds. Get ready to clear the ship, Troopers!"_

The shuffle of weapons and slings rang loud in the air as turbulence took a nosedive. But it wasn't turbulence, they quickly realized. It was weapons fire.

"Sigma deployment, Troopers!" L-Tee barked, "Keep your squads spread out, and storm their positions! Do not let them pin you down!"

Suddenly, there was rough jolt and the craft stopped moving. The lights turned from red to green.

"HIT THE RAMP, TROOPERS!"

The side doors of the dropship struck the ground with loud crash, kicking up red soil as the Troopers were out of their seats and moving. Crimson and sapphire bolts rocked through the air as the Troopers took fire from the village ahead. Quickly, they moved out in sections and took up fighting positions behind the dunes surrounding the area. Moving and shooting, the Troopers engaged targets at will, their Heads-Up Displays signifying heavy enemy activity ahead. More fire raged out, the sand around them turning to molten glass upon impact.

In seconds, the Troopers brought up their heavy repeater blasters; reigning fire almost unimpeded at a startling rate. The bolts ripped apart the terrain ahead, adobe splintering to pieces all around the attackers. Eighty-Sevens squad took up position on the right flank, farthest away from the main body of the attackers. He, Slip and Zeroes were already shooting as they hit the deck; Nines quickly set up _The Mega's_ bipod, and joined in the carnage.

"Get some, Rebs!" Nines bellowed over the comm.'s, "Get some!"

The defenders had long since taken cover, and their fire was far more sporadic. Eighty-Seven shot at whatever came into view, but for the most part he was shooting for suppression rather than for accuracy sake. Typically, Nines would lead the fire; ripping apart cover and moving onto the next while his comrades would mop up anything exposed. The only one not shooting was Slip.

"Fire your weapon, Slip!" Zeroes barked, but Slip shook his head and retorted:

"Don't tell me how to do my job, Zeroes."

He then took aim and fired, the single bolt travel across the field and striking down a passing defender in the chest. The first confirmed kill of the engagement.

"Nice shooting, Slip!" Eighty-Seven complemented proudly as he ducked his head under the dunes from retaliating fire. The beginning engagement only lasted for about thirty seconds, but in the minds of the Troopers they'd been there for hours; trading shots as their gunners reduced the enemy's forward positions to rubble. Then, the second stage of the ground assault began as ominous _Reaper_ Dropships appeared overhead.

"Here come the _clankers!"_ Slip reported.

"Well, they're not gonna steal my glory!" Nines cursed, "Damn chromedomes!"

"I'll take the chromedomes and victory over your lust for glory," Zeroes chuckled, "they're the perfect distraction."

As he said this, the dropships drew closer until they hovered a scant thirty feet from the ground. Blaster fire poured from the village into them, but they had little effect against the armored automated hulks. Then the bellies of the ships opened, and blackened forms descended from them; crashing into the ground with an explosion of soil. The fire suddenly paused for a moment as the dust settled.

A piercing mechanical voice rang out from the midst of the field; barretoned and devoid of any humanity, " _Surrender your arms, or you shall be destroyed."_

From the smoke and dust, a dozen figures rose from bended knee in perfect synchronization. Tall and imposing with slender black forms, they almost looked like scarecrows in a field.

"Go to Hell!" and the defenders opened fire. Sapphire bolts struck the static figures, and to their horror were still standing. Smoke billowed from the dozens of holes they put into them, but the forms were unfazed, unmoving.

" _Prepare to die."_

The Reaper Droids raised their arms and opened fire. Cover exploded, and loud piercing screams rang out over the din of the shooting.

"POP SMOKE!"

Canisters were thrown out and in seconds a thick wall of white blanketed the area, only interrupted by ceaseless, blistering fire coming from the Reapers. As the Troopers moved into the smoke, the Droids advanced straight into the village.

* * *

Poe stared in horror, but also amazement as the Battle Droids advanced under the withering fire, returning as much as they were given.

"Tell me you're getting this."

BB-8 beeped in confirmation. He'd been recording since they'd gotten topside. This had been the first time in almost twenty years that anybody from the New Republic had seen the enemy's latest hardware, or battlefield strategy. As much as he needed to get off planet, Poe couldn't throw away the perfect chance to get some intel that would come in handy later. And thus far, he was equally parts impressed, and terrified.

In typical fashion, the New Republic had long touted the message of the unified Imperial Remnant being a poverty stricken backwater surely to collapse in due time. Backwards in technological achievement or prowess. Poe almost wanted to imagine the faces of those idiot Senators seeing this, but had to duck and retreat as the Droids marched through the first line of smoldering buildings; shooting in all directions as they went. The Stormtroopers were coming up behind them, letting the Droids soak up the damage as they mopped up stragglers. Over fire and smoke, the Droids kept coming.

Poe ducked and rolled past a building as he bumbled into a band of villagers retreating… except they weren't retreating in a panic. They were orderly, disciplined. They had the look of men who had a plan and were executing it. But that didn't matter to Poe at the moment. He needed to get to his ship before it was too late.

* * *

Despite Nines protests, Eighty-Seven was glad for having the Reapers in front of their column; taking fire meant for them and making their job much easier.

" _Hold your positions,"_ L-Tee barked over the intercom, " _let the Reapers thin 'em out."_

"What!?" Nines protested over their channel, "Hell with that! Take it right to their teeth!"

"You really wanna lose a hand?" Slip asked, surprising the lot of them.

"Aha, he speaks! Not particularly! I like my hands!"

An explosion rocked the area ahead as a building collapsed under the Reaper's unrelenting firepower.

" _Alright, boys,"_ L-Tee called over comm. again, " _let's mop 'em up. Zeta search pattern. Keep your squads spread out. Search the buildings for our target."_

'You mean the buildings still standing,' Eighty-Seven thought to himself as he signalled his men. Nines took point, _The Mega_ held ready at the hip while the others took to his flanks. They milled about the ruins, turning over every nook and cranny for hiding spots such as hidden away cellars.

"Damn domeheads, stealing my kills," Nines grumbled darkly as they turned over burned and crumpled bodies of the villagers, "came here to kill us some Rebs, not let 'em do all the work."

Zeros shook his head, "From my count, Slip is the only one with a confirmed kill."

"Gotta be bloody kidding," Nines turned over another body, and shook his head, "hey, Eighty! I don't think our guy is here!"

Eighty-Seven nodded, shouldering his weapon and helping Slip move a section of wall. Another body, but not the one they were looking for. "Alright, let's move on to the next building."

Quickly, they inspected the next one in line which was actually intact. But something was… off.

"Where are the bodies?" Slip asked, "Amount of fire we took, there should be more of them."

"Yeah," Nines agreed, "a lot more. Especially with the chromedomes doing all the work."

"Stow it," Eighty-Seven interrupted, "check the building."

Quickly, they searched through the cramped abode, but found nothing.

"There's something weird going-"

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._

"What the-" Nines pulled at a rug on the floor. His blood turned cold. "BOMB!"

Time slow down as their combat training and adrenaline in the purest form took over. Slip and Eighty-Seven dove back from the ruined hut in a matter of seconds as Nines tackled into Zeros. Every action felt like the span of hours. Every heartbeat a symphonetic rhythm ticking down to their doom. But nothing happened.

"What the-?" Slip asked for them. He started to rise when Eighty-Seven grabbed him by the shoulder, and pulled him down. His predator instincts were screaming in the back of his head.

"Squad, formulate Epsilon," he breathed into his mike.

"And get off of me, you big goofy lug!" Zeroes cursed as he shoved the bigger Trooper off of him.

"Yeah, you're welcome," Nines grumbled as he shouldered his weapon and advanced on the hutt again with his fellows on either side of his shoulders.

"Don't get it," Slip asked over the intercom as they again turned over every nook and cranny looking for something out of the ordinary, "what was that? A dud?"

"No, not a dud," Eighty-Seven answered as he turned over the rug again, kneeling down to inspect it, "it's not a bomb either. It's some kind of… launcher."

"Bit late to be using mortars, ain't it?" Nines smirked.

Suddenly, a bright light thundered from the launcher, just mere inches from Eighty-Seven's helmet. His visor went black as the automatic shielding took over. The night around him turned bright as day. And as he landed on his back, his eyes burning from the sudden exposition, he heard a dread death cry through his comm:

"AMBUSH!"

From the ground rose camouflaged men, throwing tarps and sand entrances aside as they took the armored troopers at close quarters. Screams suddenly filled the channel as the advancing Troopers found themselves being engaged by an enemy up close and very personal. Explosions shook the ground as fire reach up to the heavens as the men entered Hell.

"SONOVA-!" Nines barked as _the Mega_ went wild. However, for all his skill with the weapon, he could never hope to be fast enough on the draw. The guerilla's were upon him in seconds, dragging him to the floor. As Zeros turned to shoot them, they were upon him as well and he disappeared over the side of the wall.

"NO!" Nines growled, "I AIN'T GOIN' OUT LIKE THIS, YA PUNK REBS!"

He struck out against his attackers, punching one square in the nose as they were busy trying to find a hole in his armor. He then launched a vicious elbow, knocking another to the side as his hand traced down to his belt. Ozone suddenly crackled as the air chortled with electricity. Nines swung his blade, slicing through flesh and bone in seconds as the electronic coated vibration weapon cut through them at a molecular level. The man screamed as his arm fell from his body before the dazzling blue arc sliced through his trachea and silenced his morbid pleas.

Then Zeros screamed through his comm's, "GET OFF ME, SCUM! GET OFF AH-!"

"HANG ON, MATE!" Nines barked back as he buried his blade through the chest of another of his attackers, "NOBODY GETS TO KILL YOU… 'CEPT ME!"

Eighty-Seven couldn't see any of this happening. Being half-blind, and his helmet's visor still not responding, he flailed about trying to make sense of his surroundings. All he did know was that his company was getting picked apart by attackers they should've seen coming. And his squad was caught in the mix of it.

"Slip," Eighty-Seven ordered through his intercom, "Slip, do you copy? Slip?"

Suddenly he heard a scream, "Die, bucket-head!"

Instinct bellowed for him to move, and like a jungle cat he dove to the side and slid into cover. It wasn't until he hit the ground that he felt a sudden pain in his shoulder. He could actually smell the burning polymer and metal as he rolled against a wall before his helmet filters shut them off. He felt for it, and found his fingers moving through the charred hole in his pauldron… but he couldn't feel the flesh underneath. He breathed a sigh of relief: his body glove hadn't been punctured.

Fire splintered chunks from above his head and he ducked; blindly moving further down his line of cover. He resisted the urge to return fire. Blind, he would not be able to see what he was shooting at and he would be just as likely to hit one of his own men. But he also knew he didn't have many other options. Eventually, the Reb would press his advantage.

He continued retreating as the Reb kept chasing him with blaster fire until his hand touched the wall. He had run right into a corner. He had nowhere left to go. Another blaster bolt struck the wall just above him. He didn't know if his attacker was playing with him, or was that bad of a shot, but he knew he wouldn't get another opportunity.

He spun and brought his weapon up. He… saw him. He saw the shooter not less than fifteen feet away. Impossible. He was still blind, and his visor was still out. But there he was. And in the split second of realization, he took his chance.

He put a bolt straight through the man's chest, and he toppled over in a heap. He rose to one knee, and looked around again. He still couldn't see, but the fuzziness slowly marching from the corner of his eyes was a sign that he would be back in working order. He then slapped the side of his helmet, the visor flickering back to life.

"Slip," he tried again on the intercom, "report."

As he rose, something big and heavy hit him from behind and he was on the floor again. His weapon was knocked from his hand as he was flung against the wall. While the impact was jarring, his armor absorbed most of it, and he rose to one knee with his hands raised. He felt the kick aimed for his head, and he raised his arms to catch it. As his hands felt leather, they wrapped around the boot and pushed outward.

While his target was a blur, he could easily hear the crash. He got up, drawing his Vibro-blade from his belt and assumed a classic fighters stance. Were it not for his lack of vision, he would've pressed his advantage. But his instincts told him to wait. And they were quickly justified as he heard the _shlink_ of a blade being drawn from a sheath.

"Come on," Eighty-Seven challenged, extending a hand out and inviting him to try his luck. The other man snickered.

"I've killed plenty of bucket-heads in my time, boy. You'll be no differ-"

He froze, and Eighty-Seven heard him choking. He could see the motion of his arms going up to his neck and then he fell to the floor. Someone was standing behind him. He kept his vibro-blade raised as the figure approached.

"Whoa, easy. It's me."

"Where were you, Slip?"

Then he saw the shine coming off his blade.

"Sorry. I was… busy."

Eighty-Seven nodded, smiling slightly. "Told you you would do fine."

"Don't mind me!" Nines laughed, rising from the little mound of his attackers, "Just gettin' swamped is all. Nope, don't mind me."

"Thought you wanted to kill Rebs," Slip chuckled back, "besides, you look good in red."

"Well well, what do we have here?" he smirked behind the helm but the tilt of his head made that obvious, "Little blood, and we got a new man here. Nice and combative. Got a little attitude to go with it. Very nice," he then swung _the Mega_ back into his waiting arms, "and I love gettin' the lead in the score and all, but my _Mega_ here is going to be doing the killing."

He then wiped at the sprays of blood marking his armor.

"Hey, any of you blokes got wash? Zeroes'll kill me seein' me like this. Oh, speaking of which. HEY ZEROES! YOU OKAY, MATE!?"

A single hand rose up from behind the wall, and gave them a begrudging thumbs up. Then a body was flopped onto the brickwork as the bloodied and bedraggled Trooper rose from the grave.

Nines shook his head. "You look like a paint-canvas, Zeros."

"I… am well aware," he panted iratebly.

"Hey Eighty, what's the regulation for being out of proper bearing and dress with your uniform? Section 1, Sub section 7 or something like that?"

"Not… one… more… word," Zeroes growled as he sat in a heap, ready to fall apart. Nines' smirk just grew an inch longer as he shook his head playfully.

"Just remidin' you. You being a stickler with the rules and such."

"Don't rub it in," Slip laughed.

"He laughs! My my, who are you, Reb, and what you done with our skittish boy?"

Eighty-Seven resisted every urge to laugh. But, he could afford to smile. That however didn't last long as L-Tee came over the line. " _All squads, check in. Casualty reports, over!"_

It wasn't good. Not everybody had their luck. Eighty-Seven shook his head at the thought. There was no such thing as luck on the battlefield. He couldn't shake the feeling, though.

He should've been dead. He was blind and square in the crosshairs and yet he was still breathing.

"CONTACT!"

Suddenly, sapphire fire rang out ahead and the Troopers dove to cover. In seconds they were returning fire. Quickly, the riflemen took up advancing positions as Nines laid down cover fire. Smoke was thrown, and the squad was in the breach. Eighty-Seven continued to listen to the channels as he led his men to storm their attackers:

"We've got multiple contacts here! They're all over! They're coming out of the walls!"

"Echo and Delta, form up a defensive perimeter! Zeta-Mike protocol! And somebody get those Reapers back!"

"They're behind us! I repeat they're behind us!"

"L-Tee, this Delta One-Three. We've spotted an X-Wing to the west. T-70 model. Black and orange markings!

"A Flying Rancor," L-Tee cursed, "disable that ship and capture its pilot. Command will want a prisoner."

"Copy that. Moving to engage!"

* * *

"Move it, BB-8!" Poe cursed as he ran for all he was worth across the sand dunes and onto the paved track. His heart pounded so loudly it was symphonetic music playing to his every step and every thought. He had never felt so urgent before. He didn't even notice BB-8's remark about not having legs as his hands grabbed onto the X-Wing's cockpit ladder. As he started to climb, BB-8 adjusted his power settings and was floating towards his spot in the astromech spot.

"Let's blow this chowder stand, buddy."

He was barely strapping into his seat and getting his helmet on when he saw them. Two fireteams worth of white foreboding figures coming at him like ghosts out of the night.

"Oh come on!"

Now the Troopers were shooting. Massive bolts of crimson seared off the platting. Poe knew he was in a bad spot. His engines were facing them. Sure enough, warning signs blared out their lethal message as his only way out was shot to pieces. But he still had more than enough power to make them pay for it.

His hand went to the joystick and thumped the switch. The underbelly cannon flared to life and swiveled about. His on screen camera had them in his sights, and he went to work. Bolts red as fire and big as boulders struck the Troopers and cut through them like a scythe through wheat. The Troopers soon became smoking husks.

"' _Good shooting,'"_ BB-8 commented.

"Thanks."

"' _Still stuck here.'"_

"I know," Poe grumbled as he buried his head into his instrument panel. He struck the side in frustration as he popped the hatch.

"Just once, I'd like things not to go completely fracked up beyond all recognition in less than five carking minutes!"


	6. Chapter 4 - Face to Face

**Chapter 4 - Face to Face**

* * *

 **Jakku**

 **The Goazan Badlands**

* * *

Lor San Tekka was not a Jedi, at least not in the traditional sense. He was not blessed with their gifts. Rather, he was born with a need to understand them, to understand the Force. Perhaps it was a part of him still wanting to become like them anyway he could.

"I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me."

He reached into his robes, feeling the cold steel finish of the lightsaber in his hands. He felt pride and resentment. Why was he alive, and not so many others?

"I shall know no fear, for the Force shall guide me."

He drew the weapon from his sleeve, remembering the day the council had gifted it to him.

"There is no death, there is only the Force."

A cobalt fire sprouted from the immeter like an extension of his spirit. His tortured, guilty spirit.

"I am one with the Force, and the Force… shall keep me."

He thought back to the day he'd met Luke Skywalker, when he'd given him purpose. He'd met many pretenders before him that had power, carried the symbol of the Jedi, but did not understand what it meant to truly be a Jedi.

But Luke had been different. Yes, he had borne the appearance many of those pretenders with his ignorance of his culture's history. But when he looked deeper, peering into his soul, he knew that he was truly one. He may have lacked knowledge, but not understanding. He knew in his heart what it meant to be a Jedi, and had an eagerness to be more than what he was.

He closed his eyes again, memories coming and going. Of old and new Jedi coming together; the tribulations tearing them apart, but bringing them together. Facing enemies of the past and present; triumphing despite the odds, despite the losses. Of an age of justice he had helped build.

He would never be a Jedi, but they had treated him as one. Given him a seat; reverence and respect. And to that end, he had served them with knowledge, the one thing he had in great earnest. And yet out of all those who had died, he lived. The one among them not gifted with their power.

The cruel irony was bitter to him.

"Halt!" he heard the marbled voices of the enemy ahead, and his heart grew hard, "Don't move or we will kill you!"

"Please!" the innocent cried, "Please… d-don't take my children! Please!"

"Stop resisting or we'll-!"

He charged and his blade struck home through the side of his chest, just below the armpit.

"What the-!?"

He turned to see his enemy gawking at him in utter and complete shock. Lor San made good use of his deception and charged. They raised their blasters but he was upon them. With a swipe, he separated head from body. With a hack, the blue arc cleaved through upraised arms. And with a final jab, buried his blade into the chest of the last Stormtrooper.

He fell with the body, staring face to face with it for an eon until finally he rose. Every part of him should have been aching. Screaming in protest. Telling him to stop. Yet… he'd never felt so alive.

"Mr. Tekka…" the quivering innocence crept through his righteous stoicism, and he turned to the woman and her children, "there are too many of them. What are we going to do?"

"Flee, my children. Flee."

He then turned and ran into the fire.

* * *

They hadn't gone a hundred feet into the desert when they'd started taking fire again.

"Blast," Poe cursed as he dived for cover behind a ruined wall, "these guys just don't quit."

He hadn't gotten a count, but by the angle of the shots impacting his spot and zooming over his head, he knew that they were quickly moving to surround them. Time was running out.

 _Vee-Dee-Bum-Boo_

"No, I think this is just as bad as that time in Antiga City," he cursed through gritted teeth as he blind fired back at his attackers.

 _Dee-Bee-Boo-Will_

"Hey, that's not fair! You don't have legs! You didn't have to run through that minefield!"

Suddenly, they heard movement coming in on their right. Poe whirled, and there was a Trooper. Before anybody could react, BB-8 charged him. His heavy body slammed into the Trooper with a loud _Crunch_ and sent him falling to the desert floor, then hitting him with a long burst from his arc-caster that left him smoking.

He reached over and plucked the Troopers' F-1, sprinting like his life depended on it. He went from cover to cover, vaulting over walls and boulders as the Troopers kept up the chase. Poe looked over his right, into the vast desert that was flat for a good thirty yards before it hit dunes stretching for miles on end.

It was too far away for him to make it, but it wasn't him that needed to get away. He dived left and headed back into the village. He dove from house to house as explosions and shots battered the area. Poe found his opportune spot, sliding behind a high rising ruin jutting out of the ground

Poe figured he had a good thirty seconds before the Troopers were on them again. BB-8 asked the obvious question, and he sighed.

"I'm going to buy you some time. You need to get out of here."

"' _What?'"_

"I'm gonna lead them further into the village. When they pass you by, head straight into the desert. Don't stop for anything."

BB-8's arm suddenly jutted out, grabbing him by the shoulder as he frantically beeped his objection. Poe shook his head, and took his mechanical claw in his own.

"Buddy, the mission is more important. Which means **you** are more important."

"' _Poe, we're a team! I can't just leave you!'"_

"You've gotta get the map to Senator Organa and the Republic. It doesn't matter if I make it out or not."

"' _No, we go together.'"_

Poe just shook his head, closing his eyes as he did. "I'm sorry. Look, I'll come back for you, I promise."

BB-8 shook his mechanical head before taking the human in a hug, "' _You never keep your promises.'"_

"I know." He heard the Stormtroopers closing in. "Go when they pass you by."

He then opened fire on the Troopers and took off toward the center of the village. As the squad took off in pursuit, BB-8 made a bee-line for the dunes. As he did, he whipped his head around; watching Poe until he disappeared out of sight with the Troopers not far behind. He closed his lenses, shaking his head as the droid disappeared into the desert.

* * *

"On me. Zeros, take point."

"Copy."

They advanced into the heart of the village. Flanked on all sides by squat, overlapping adobe abodes with narrowing streets, the air was quiet save for the ambience of the battle some hundred yards away.

"Clear," Zeros reported as he waved the squad up. Step by step, the Troopers covered every avenue of approach as they advanced slowly down the street up to Zeros position on the corner.

"Nines, overwatch," Eighty-Seven ordered, waving his hand over to the corner. Nines nodded, and quickly covered the avenue as the other three Troopers crossed the street and onto the first door they came across. Eighty-Seven then signalled the Heavy Trooper and he hustled over, taking up rearguard. Zeroes and Slip both took up positions on either side of the door.

"One… two…"

Eighty-Seven kicked in the door and the Troopers swarmed in. The room was black as pitch, and Slip tripped on something lying on the floor. Eighty-Seven caught him by the arm as the unspokenly switched on their thermals. The room was painted in shades in blues, but no sign of other targets. They quickly searched the area, their armor a reflective green in their HUD's as they went from room to room.

"Clear."

They quickly trotted out, switching off their vision and going to next door across the street. Again, nothing.

"We're gonna be at this for hours," Nines muttered, "gonna die of boredom 'fore we find this bloke."

"Don't hex it, Nines," Zeros chided him.

"Thought you didn't believe in luck."

"Lock it up," Eighty-Seven growled, "next door. Slip, on me."

Slip then held up a hand. "I can hear movement."

"Prep the flashers. On me. One… two…"

As he kicked down the door, he found someone waiting for him right in the doorway. Sapphire ripped through the air as he tumbled to the floor, firing back as he fell. He was conscious of smoke billowing from somewhere below his chin, but he wasn't concerned about that at the moment as he shouted:

"DOWN!"

No sooner than they hit the deck than fire ripped through the walls where the Troopers had been standing. "NINES! LIGHT 'EM UP!"

"WITH PLEASURE!"

 _The Mega_ opened up like a primordial animal, ripping chunk sized holes through the building in seconds. The other Troopers in turn added their own fire, Zeros tossing in grenades. A moment later, they were showered in flying debris as the roof caved in.

"Clear out?" Nines called out.

"Clear out!" Slip called back as he scrambled over to Eighty-Seven, "You okay!?"

"Do I look okay?"

"Suits holding," Zeros nodded as he felt the burn through Eighty-Seven's chest plate, "armor absorbed the damage. You're gonna be okay."

"Yeah well, I don't particularly feel it," he groaned as they helped him up.

"Oughta give you a medal!" Nines bellowed as he marched over to them, _The Mega_ held triumphantly over his shoulder, "Number of times you been shot an' all! Gear heads gonna be real happy to get a read out on that!"

"They can have it. I don't want it anymore. Check the building."

There wasn't much point to it. It was like a crushed a can with the middle crumpled out.

"Hopefully the target isn't underneath that," Zeros reported morbidly as they shuffled through the remains.

"Doubt it," Slip countered, "nobody's daft enough to take on Nines and expect to live."

"Damn straight!"

Suddenly another blue bolt sung through the air, smacking Nines in the shoulder. "CONTACT!"

They dived for cover as Nines went to his knee. With a snarl, he rose and unleashed _The Mega_ on the building in front of them.

"YOU WANT SOME OF THIS!? YOU WANT SOME MORE!?"

Then fire whipped from behind them. Nines hit the ground as Eighty-Seven and Slip took up the rear while he and Zeros kept fire on their front.

"Filthy Rebs got us in an ambush!" Zeroes grunted as he tossed another grenade.

"Well, you know what they say!" Nines bellowed back, "You can shoot your way out of anything!"

"CONTACT LEFT!"

"CONTACT RIGHT!"

All around them, bolts zipped through the air and impacted their cover with loud thuds. The Squad took up positions on every wall, firing into the general direction of their attackers. One building caved in a giant explosion of dust and sand. Then another. And yet, there was no end to the shooting.

Seconds felt like hours as the Troopers kept up a constant, never-ending barrage, supplemented by the occasional grenade. Then a bolt struck Nines in the helmet, sending him hurtling to the floor.

"MAN DOWN!" Zeros screamed as he dived for the Trooper.

"SLIP, TAKE OVER!"

As Slip quickly dived for the next fighting position, Zeros immediately checked his vital signs.

"Don't tell me you're missing me already, ya softie," Nines chuckled.

"Heh, not on your life. Eighty-Seven, he'll be-"

He turned his head, and there under the rubble was a burned and battered hand holding a blaster pistol not six feet away.

"Co-"

A shower of blue sparked, and he tumbled over. His hands clutched at his throat, his comm filled with the sounds of him choking.

"NO!" _The Mega_ was in Nines' hands as he opened fire on buried attacker. He fired and fired until the air was filled with crimson dust so thick he blocked unassisted view.

"Zeros is down!" Nines screamed, "Zeros is down!"

Eighty-Seven was over them both, covering as Nines ripped off Zeros' helmet. The tanned, owlish face was pulsating blood; his eyes wide in fear. Bubbles popped and formed from the Troopers mouth as he desperately, frantically tried to breathe.

Nines tore through the man's chest plate, trying to forcibly pry it off. Slip took over covering them as Eighty-Seven clamped his hands over the man's pulsating throat, keep pressure on the wound. He could hear Nines screaming, but he couldn't make out the words. Zeros' eyes grew wider and wider, his skin turning purple at the cheeks as his clamped onto Eighty-Seven's in a death grip.

Then, as Nines tore the chest plate off, Zeros hands went limp and his eyes fell backwards. Nines shook him over and over, decompressing his chest frantically. Over and over, the chest fell but the face remained impassive; his eyes locked in a cold impression as he stared into the sky above.

Sound krept in.

"Come on, mate! Come on! Breathe, dammit, breathe!"

"Nines!" Eighty-Seven shouted as he took the Trooper by his shoulder and shook him, "He's gone!"

"No he's-"

"He's gone."

"We gotta get out of here!" Slip cried frantically as he swung and fire from one side to another.

"Nines, get your weapon and take-"

Nines was standing. _The Mega_ was clasped in firmly in his hands as he roared long and loud enough to be heard outside of his comm's, "I'M COMIN' FOR YOU, REBS!"

He marched into the fray and opened fire. His armor was soon smoking and buckling from return fire, but he kept marching on; tearing into buildings left and right.

"NINES!" Eighty-Seven screamed, "GET BACK!"

Nines didn't answer, and when the _Mega's_ barrel finally melted he merely tossed it at his enemy and drew his SE-44c sidearm.

"Nines, you idiot!" Slip called out as he and Eighty-Seven came up behind him, trying desperately to cover him, "Get back-"

Suddenly, a searing white explosion engulfed their world and set them flying. His ears ringing, Eighty-Seven slowly rose to see only smoke and dust smothering him like fog. Nines was nowhere to be seen.

"Slip," he called out, "Slip!"

"Eighty… Seven?"

"Come on, we gotta get out of here!" He rose, slinging his weapon over and shooting into every direction.

"Eighty…" His voice was becoming weaker.

"Slip, c'mon!"

"I…?"

Eighty-Seven looked down and his heart stopped. Imbedded in Slip's chest was massive piece of white armor shrapnel. Slip's hands clung delicately to it, blood seeping from wound.

"I… I can't…"

"C'mon, we gotta move!" Eighty-Seven plucked him by his shoulder and ran into the opposite direction, blue bolts of plasma chasing after them like specters in the night.

"Eighty…"

"Don't talk. Save your breath."

"I… I feel so… feel so cold."

"Just hang on! Echo-One-Two! I have multiple casualties!"

Pain shot through his back as something knocked him on his face and through a crumbled doorway. He spun and fired, catching an attacker in the chest and forcing the others to retreat.

"E-Eighty?"

"Slip! Just hang on!"

"I… I…" Slip clutched at the shrapnel sticking out of his chest, blood running down its jagged length and soaking into his gloves. Eighty-Seven clutched him tightly as he tried to move him.

"C'mon, Slip! We need to go!"

"I can't… I can't feel my legs… I…" He reached his hand for Eighty-Seven's helmet, holding him there as he whispered, "I… I didn't… I didn't let you…"

"No," he wrapped his hand around Slip's helmet, embracing him, "you didn't. You did good. You're gonna keep doing good, you hear?"

"I…"

Then his hand fell from Eighty-Seven's helmet, leaving behind a bloody handprint. Eighty-Seven shuddered as he cradled his brother, holding his helmet to his own. And in that moment, he screamed.

The world turned silent. Not a noise was stirred as the wall before him exploded, as he tumbled down the hill and the world turned into a giant blur of red sand. He felt the action and recoil of his weapon, saw the bolts flew in every direction as the sand consumed him.

The ground rocked below, and he was in the air. He tumbled and rolled in the darkness. Something hit him in the side. Something hard and hot, and he fell forward through a door. He lay there on the hardened wood floor, not even sure if he was still alive. If he even should be.

Then he heard a whimper. He rose by an elbow, by a hand, and there in the corner was a woman clutching children. He rose by a knee, his weapon still clasped in his fingers. The children whimpered, and the woman curled into them. She was trying to shield them.

He had never seen such fear. Then he heard someone coming. Someone else bumbled into the room, rolling through an open window. He was wearing an orange flight suit.

"Man, these guys don't…" He saw him. He rose, his weapon pointed at him. An F-11. "You've gotta be kidding me!"

Eighty-Seven hadn't felt it. All he knew was that the Reb was in his sight. That he was there, and he was here. And that both were a three pound pressure pull from blowing the other away.


	7. Chapter 5 - Who talks first?

**Chapter 5 - "Who talks first?"**

* * *

 **Jakku**

 **The Goazan Badlands**

* * *

The air had frozen still, as though a perpetual tension had taken by the throat. The room and its occupants had become their own entity, cut off from the rest of the galaxy. It wasn't fear though that gripped Eighty-Seven's mind but only a heightened sense of things. The sheen of sweat poured down the fighter pilots brow, his eyes burning with a single minded intensity in his eyes; the rock-steadiness of his hand pointing the blaster at him.

Eighty-Seven wondered again if he was dead. If he had died outside with his men, and this was a trick of his dying brain. After all, why hadn't he shot him dead yet? It was a good lie, but that was all it was. He had the temptation though to make it real. Drop his weapon, and die like he should have.

But he couldn't; his instinct held him steady like a statuary. He wondered how long they'd been standing there, how long he'd been thinking about this. Seconds? Minutes? Why hadn't the pilot taken the shot? He was open, he could do it now and he knew he'd be too slow. So why didn't he do it?

He searched his eyes, seeing fear and anger in them. But there was something else, something he couldn't identify. Something that kept him from shooting. The child suddenly whimpered. Eighty-Seven flinched, his head tilting over to look her filthy face covered in tears and soot. She'd been crying so much her eyes were red.

Eighty-Seven had never seen children like this before. Yes, his brothers and sisters were children once, but it wasn't the same. There was innocence in her.

 _Weakness,_ the voice of Phasma barked in his head. He cursed himself, certain that now that he was going to die. He had wasted seconds and presented the perfect window. The pilot would take his shot and he would fall like he should've outside. But it didn't happen.

The pilot was looking at the family, the mother staring at him. How long had he'd been doing this? As long as him? Before? After? He was just as exposed as he was, and Eighty-Seven could put him down long before he could react. But he didn't.

"Why?"

He hadn't realized he'd said it outloud. The Pilot turned back to him, his weapon raised with a curious question written on his face. Then he lowered his weapon. Eighty-Seven couldn't help but do the same.

 _Coward,_ Phasma's voice spat venom, but he wasn't listening. He watched as the pilot turned his back on him, pulling the family away as they stared uncertainly at Eighty-Seven. The Pilot looked back at him and nodded. He disappeared through the door, leaving Eighty-Seven standing behind in the room.

"Why?" he asked himself again, "Why?"

(page break)

The initial shock of seeing an old lunatic with a lightsaber quickly died within minutes of his running engagement. While there was still fear and the mild suspicion of what they might be dealing with being chatted through the comm's, a collective discipline and coordination took over. Squads began reporting his sightings and within a minute the Lieutenant was able to narrow down where Lor San was and where he was going. While there was an apparent randomness to his attacks as if he was just engaging whatever target crossed his path, it quickly became clear he was sticking to the western part of the village complex by a block by block radius. With reports of other hostiles being in the vicinity, his purpose became fairly clear.

As such, it became fairly straight-forward to simply corral the opposition with a few squads at each access point while the rest of the village was mopped up. Still, the battle had been nothing short of costly. The very fact they couldn't sweep the area with TIE Punishers meant that they had to deal with the full brunt of the enemy defenses. Echo-Three-One had been wiped out to a man, and almost every squad in the company had suffered 25% casualties. Echo-Two-One was still, however, unaccounted for after their comm's had cut out once they'd reached the eastern side of the village.

"Sir," his Comm. Officer suddenly reported over the line, "the Reapers have reported a complete sweep of the area. They're requesting new orders, sir."

"Good. Tell them to advance onto," he pulled up the map display in his HUD, "sector G-4-9. Target and an unknown number of hostiles are entrenched. Set RoE to lethal, but the target must be taken alive."

* * *

Six Troopers. That was how many of the blasted invaders Lor San had managed to cut down before they'd withdrawn. The bedraggled and battered survivors around him, still willing fight on despite many of their grievous injuries, cheered his success.

"You damn well scared 'em off, Mr. Tekka!"

Lor San, however, could only shake his head. The enemy had withdrawn merely to regroup, and even now he could make out sentries posted on the outskirts of the hamlet he'd chosen to make his stand. Though depleted in fighting strength, the positioning and the sheer tenacity of the defenders ensured the Troopers would pay a dear price for every yard they took. Despite this, Lor San and his fellows were trapped, and it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed.

The old man sighed, and rested his aged frame against the ruined wall. The end, he knew, was utterly inevitable, he was glad of it. He hadn't been there at the end when the enemy had descended upon the Jedi at the Academy. He hadn't been there to fight and die for the people who had given him back a sense of purpose... maybe he could've even saved a few by trading his own life for theirs.

But now? Now he'd gotten his chance. He smiled tiredly to himself. He might've been three years late, but he would get the death he'd been longing for. Better still, it would have purpose. Poe or at least his droid might be able to escape while he kept the enemy busy.

He stared at the men who'd come to this world at his request. Who'd labored day and night to uncover its secrets, and now were ready to fall so that others may live. Many of them had fought side by side with the Old Order during the Clone Wars, and when Luke Skywalker called for their service again, the Antarian Rangers answered without hesitation.

They had no fear of death. They were prepared to sell their lives for a better tomorrow; a galaxy made free.

"Children," Lor San spoke with the softest of whispers that resonate the loudest with them, "let us pray."

The men nodded, falling to their knees regardless of injury, their blasters held like banners as Lor San raised his hands to the air above. Together, they chanted:

"I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me. I shall know no fear, for the Force shall guide me. There is no death, there is only the Force. I am one with the Force, and the Force shall keep me."

Lor San opened his eyes, an aura of burning passion radiating from them. "Let us make thirteen fight like a hundred. Bless your weapons. For today, we honor the Jedi."

They heard the thundering sound of heavy footfalls approaching. The men rose, shouldering their weapons as Lor San activated his lightsaber. "Today, we earn our forgiveness."

Seconds later, the Reaper Droids came crashing through the side of their villa in a shower of smoke and sand. In the confusion of the moment, the point automaton bellowed in its monotone manner, "' _Drop your weapons. You have fifteen seconds to-'"_

Lor San responded by hacking off its arm with the lightsaber before burying it into the chest of the mechanical monstrosity. However, the Reaper did not fall, cranning its curious head down at the old man before it struck him in the head with a loud _crack!_ Lor San fell to his knees, his brain swimming but he refused to let go of the saber. He took it and swung sideways, chopping the Reaper in two.

As it fell, the droid clutched at his robes and dragged him down with him. Lor San quickly finished it off by decapitating its head. Soon after, more droids came smashing through the villa, and the Rangers opened fire from every corner. Bolts and rockets were exchanged, the walls crumbling all around them. Though severely outmatched, the Rangers fought with everything they had; resorting to stones and their bare hands when they ran out of alternatives.

The end, however, was inevitable. One by one, the Rangers were dispatched; falling lifeless to the floor beside their comrades. Lor San, by intention, was the last to be handled. Lor San wildly swung his blade at them as they closed in. Hands and a few limbs were lopped off in the effort, but he eventually made the mistake of slamming his blade through one of the droid's torso.

Effectively disarmed, the Droid plucked him by his robes and held him high into the air while with its free hand it removed the saber from its chest. "' _Reaper 19734 to Lieutenant FN-3456. Target has been acquired.'"_

* * *

On the other side of the comm. Line, the officer nodded triumphantly as the image of the struggling old man came into his HUD. He then turned to his Comm. Officer, pride heavy in his voice.

"Contact the Ravager. Tell them Lor San Tekka has been apprehended."

* * *

They heard the ship coming long before they actually saw it. A looming black silhouette blanketed the night sky, appearing like a great terrestrial monster bird from folk legend. As the Upsilon-Class Command Shuttle made its touchdown, it's largely expansive wings folded upward like a perching bat.

A moment later, a loud hiss echoed from the vessel as the hydraulic ramp clattered to the ground as an unmistakable figure aproached.

"Sith," Lor San snarled in a hushed whisper. Tall, powerfully built and draped in pitch black robes and a cloak stained red from the planet's soil, the man loomed over the gathering before him like divinity. His mask was formulated like a skull, gazing out from hollow sunken slits. Hooded, it gave the man a rather foreboding countenance.

A sudden feeling of cold bit into Lor San's bones despite the warmth of the evening. He did not have the Force, but he didn't need it to know. The Dark Side was with this man. It was… a part of him. And in this, the fire of rage buried deep in the old man's heart blazed, and yet he felt the cold dagger of guilt cut deeply as he did.

"Lord Ren," Captain Phasma in her chrome armor echoed as she slammed her fist into her chest in salute followed by the rest of the company, "welcome to Jakku."

"Thank you, Captain," Kylo Ren replied, his voice distorted by the mask. As he stood before Lor San, the old man felt something he hadn't felt before. To most, even to his Jedi colleagues, he was a man born without fear. Some even accused him of recklessness. But here, staring into the warped form of the boy he'd once known, he felt the cold sensation crawl up his spine.

"Look how old you've become," the Sith remarked. Lor San could almost feel the smirk through the helm.

"Something far worse has happened to you, boy," Lor San retorted sharply.

The Sith chuckled softly. "I see your wit hasn't aged. But let's not stand on ceremony here, Master Tekka. I know what you found, and you know you're going to give it to me one way or another."

Lor San rose despite the protest of his wounds, standing face to face with him. Sharp defiance was painted on his weathered face as his spat back.

"You are far too late, Sith. The knowledge you seek has long since been buried beneath these sands. What you seek cannot be found."

"That is rather unbecoming of you, Master Tekka. A man who dedicates his life to the pursuit of knowledge would then so callously throw it away?"

"No less unbecoming than you. I know where you come from. I know who you were before you called yourself Kylo Ren. You've truly fallen far from the boy I once taught."

Kylo Ren shook his head dismissively, his tone becoming impatient.

"I am not here for a lecture, old man. And you never were a good liar," he brushed past him, peering out at the men cowering before him and at the village burning ahead, "after all, why would you defend this place so vigorously if there was nothing to hide?"

Kylo took the old man's silence as an acknowledgement. "No, you wouldn't disregard knowledge so valuable, not when we both know **who** sent you here in the first place."

"I do not know where **he** is," Lor San countered, but Kylo shook his head.

"I doubt he would be clumsy enough to entrust that knowledge with you. And… that is not why I'm here. Nor why you are here."

He then turned to Captain Phasma, who stiffened slightly from his presence. "Tell me, Captain, was there not a distinctive fighter discovered not far from here?"

"Indeed, sir," Phasma replied, "disabled, but the pilot and astromech were not recovered."

"And we both know who sent this pilot to you," Kylo turned back to the old man, "don't we, Master Tekka?"

Lor San's face stiffened into a snarl, "He is far away from here by now. The deserts of this world are vast. Even you will not be able to find him."

"I disagree."

* * *

Getting out of the village had proven tougher than imagined. The Stormtroopers had long since cordoned off the perimeter with tightly knit patrols. Alone, Poe might've been able to sneak past them, but with a family in his care he hadn't wanted to take the chance. Instead, they hunkered down in the destroyed remains of a hut, concealed as the enemy brushed past them with prisoners. Among them had been Lor San Tekka.

Part of him longed to break cover and rescue him. But doing that would just get him and the family killed. No, he knew the old man's fate was sealed. Soon enough, the First Order would cart away their prisoners and he would be able to make his way into the night and hopefully find BB-8. After that, someplace to get them off world.

That however changed with the arrival of Kylo Ren. Poe cursed the fact he didn't have his cam-corder or BB-8 for that matter. There'd been rumors for years about some cult of Force-wielding fanatics hiding out in the Unknown Regions, but there hadn't been any substantiated proof of their existence. More importantly, there hadn't been any proof that they were working with the First Order. Now there was.

However, this would be dismissed as the eyewitness of an officer of the New Republic Navy operating in the Demilitarized Sector under the orders of a politician. With a recording though… he stopped himself. He had to get out of here first. One of the children squirmed and her mother was quick to silence her. She gave Poe a hurried look and he nodded.

He just hoped the enemy would be happy enough with just having Lor San and leave. That assumption was proven wrong.

"He is far away from here by now," Lor San declared from across the way, "the deserts of this world are vast. Even you will not be able to find him."

"I disagree," then suddenly Kylo Ren turned in his direction. Poe's heart stopped; was he looking at him? Was he just looking in that direction? In either case, Poe tightened his grip on the F-11 and brought it to firing position. He heard the family duck behind cover as he did this, and part of him wondered if he should just make a run for it right now.

Kylo Ren turned his back and faced the old man again. "In fact, I think the man is here in this village. I think he's close, watching us. After all, as you once said, he mistakes gallantry for foolhardiness."

The look of horror on Lor San's face was all Poe needed. He took the shot. Aimed at the man's head, the crimson bolt could move faster than any normal man could even possibly think. But then the unthinkable happened. The bolt stopped. It was literally floating there, frozen in place right between two startled Stormtroopers who backed away from the burning plasma trail.

And there on the other end was Kylo Ren with his hand extended. He chuckled, "You're pretty good. But not good enough."

Poe got ready to take a shot. Kylo extended his other hand and before Poe could even twitch his trigger finger he was sent flying. No, not sent. Pulled. He was being pulled by some invisible hand dragging him along the ground until he was at the feet of the Kylo Ren.

"There you are. So thoughtful for you to join us."

Poe chuckled softly as he pushed himself off the ground, "Didn't have much choice."

His heart sank when he turned around. The family he'd been shielding had been pulled with him.

"Sentiment is… admirable," Kylo Ren interrupted his guilt-ridden stewing with an almost apologetic tone, "but in war, it only costs you."

Poe glared up at the man as he rose to his knees, putting forth every ounce of defiance he had into his cold staring eyes. It was little more than bravado at this point, but it was all he had left. Kylo Ren then knelt before him, studying his face for a long, uncomfortable moment. Poe could feel something there in the dark, scratching at his psyche, and it seemed to grow in intensity the longer he stared at the masked man. Maybe it was the tension of the moment… but he suspected what it really was.

"So," he asked with a smile, "who talks first? You talk first, I talk first?"

"Your sense of humor hasn't changed a bit," Kylo suddenly chuckled, "you're a long way from Antiga Primar, Commander Dameron."

Poe's eyes widened, but then it softened into a smirk.,"What's the bounty on my head nowadays? 20,000?"

"Fifteen actually. Search him."

The Troopers stood him up, rummaging through his flight suit as Kylo rose and faced Lor San again, whose face had melted into mournful defeat.

"I doubt you would be stupid enough to give it to him directly, otherwise he wouldn't be here," Kylo then turned back to Poe, "which means the information is in your droid. Where is it?"

Poe's smile grew wider. "Y'know, it's kinda hard to understand you with all the apparatus."

Kylo cocked his head, amused. "Your will is impressive. It'll take time to break you. But as Master Tekka so generously pointed out, the deserts here are vast. Which means I have all the time in the universe."

"Good luck with that. You ain't getting anything out of me."

"We shall see," he then gestured to the Troopers beside him, "put him on board."

* * *

"Tell me something!" Lor San growled as he rose back to his feet, coming so close to the Knight of Ren the Troopers raised their blasters on him, but Kylo gestured them to stand down.

"And that is, old man?"

"Was it easy?"

The question seemed to stun the man. He froze on the spot, gazing out at him unspeaking. Lor San's eyes narrowed as he continued, the venom in his voice barbed to the point.

"Tell me that much. Was it easy to turn on them? To slaughter your own family? To betray everything you once stood for? Was it?"

Kylo did not speak, he placed his hand on Lor San's shoulder, his grip almost… familial. Then a blood thirsty hiss was heard and the villagers screamed. Kylo stood there, staring into the horrified eyes of his teacher as he opened his mouth one last time to speak. All that was heard was the sudden exhaust of air as he took his last mortal breath.

Kylo felt cold as he cradled his body, staring into Lor San's lifeless face as he set him down the desert floor.

"No... it wasn't," he whispered.

"Sir," Phasma reported behind him, "the villagers?"

"Our orders?"

Her voice was flat, her response immediate, "No witnesses."

Kylo nodded, saying in a lifeless voice, "Carry them out, then."

She nodded simply. "On my command."

The Troopers then swarmed around the villagers, forming a firing line as they corralled the villagers against the wall.

"Ready."

"Please!" a woman pleaded, "Not my children! Please, not them! I beg you!"

"Aim."

"You're gonna burn for this!" a man shouted from the crowd, "Yer grandpappies couldn't beat us! Same gonna happen to you!"

Phasma chuckled softly, responding curtly, "We are not our grandfathers."

She then raised her arm, and brought it crashing down like an executioner's axe. The air suddenly turned out, glowing scarlet as the valley echoed with thunderous reports. Screams were sudden, piercing with pain but in the end… brief. Their bodies hung for a moment before settling to the sand, sprawled in their lifeless state. The Troopers stared at their work for a moment before about-facing and making their way to their transports.

All except for one.

* * *

Eighty-Seven stared at the bodies, at what he had just done.

"FN-2187," Phamsa's voice suddenly cut across his channel as she appeared behind him. He did not move. He felt the Captain's hand on his shoulder as she beckoned him to turn. She stared at him for a moment before she nodded solemnly, taking him by the shoulder.

"Let's go home, Trooper."

"...yes ma'am," he whispered, so softly he almost didn't hear himself say it. As they marched back towards the transports, something made Eighty-Seven lookup. He didn't know what it was. A feeling, something… gravitating. He saw Lord Ren looking at him.

He craned his head curiously, watching him pass him by. Strange as it was, Eighty Seven didn't care when he entered the transport, nor when he was strapped into his seat. Nor when the ship took off and departed the planet. All he could do was stare at the world fast leaving their rearview mirror. All he could do was shake his head.

He had failed.


	8. Chapter 6 - Belly of the Beast

**Chapter 6 - Belly of the Beast**

* * *

 **Centaxday, Nelona 2nd**

 **Outskirts of the Jakku system**

 **Resurgent-Class Star Destroyer** _ **Ravager**_

* * *

When he heard the unmistakable metallic sound of landing gears touching down on a hard platform along with the sudden hiss of decompressing air, Poe's stomach dropped. He had a feeling he knew where he was and when the ramp to their transport fell to the floor, that much was confirmed.

"Move it."

The Troopers either side of him pushed him roughly by the shoulder and he stumbled onto the flight deck. When he did, though, his eyes went wide. All around him was the bowels of a next generation Star Destroyer, probably a Battlecruiser based on the size of its hangar. It had been over twenty years since the New Republic had even an inkling to the technological advancements the Imperial Remnants had been cooking up and here it showed.

He felt a rough hand on his shoulder and he instinctively shook away. A blaster rifle came up to his face and he held up his restrained hands, chuckling with a wry smile, "I got nowhere to go, buckethead. So you might as well relax."

"Funny," the Trooper growled, "move."

He was shoved roughly and he started walking. That of course didn't stop him from taking mental notes. What immediately surprised him was the number of droids walking around. Of course, there were plenty of personnel dressed in navy gray uniforms performing various tasks, but the droids outnumbered them three to one in that regard. The droids in question looked like upgraded B-1's, adorned in black and red markings.

That made him wonder why. Did the First Order lack the necessary bodies to man their ships, so made up the difference with droids? That probably explained their use of droid fighters, but where did the get the resources out in the Unknown Regions?

Another odd quirk he picked up were the officers, distinguished from the other ship crew with their black trousers and white blouses. They spoke with over-pronounced Coruscanti accents that reminded him of the planet's upper political echelon. Even the Stormtroopers spoke vaguely urban sounding Coruscanti, with even a variety to them.

He chuckled at those revelations. Even after getting kicked from Coruscant, the Imperials still kept up their aristocratic traditions, right down to creating a social divide between officers and soldiers. Some things never change. He ended up eating his words by what he saw next.

"You've gotta be kidding me," he whispered at the sight of next-gen TIE Defenders lining the walkway. Poe shook his head at the sight of the six winged craft perched like birds of prey. The Defender program had been the boogeyman of his academy days. The brainchild of the infamous Grand Admiral Thrawn early in the days of the Rebellion, these fighters were a match, sometimes even superior to the X-Wing.

He remembered the program had been shut down due to Rebel sabotage, mounting production costs, and of course the fact that Thrawn had been mysteriously reassigned to the Unknown Regions to deal with some crisis. The details of which were still classified to his paygrade. And yet, here they were again, and that made him wonder how.

He was shoved along, giving him a chance to observe the craft in more detail. He noticed then that there were two variants, painted black and white with crimson flight marks. There was the stock version, similar to the old TIE/D. However, the second was longer and bulkier, with an expanded cockpit. He craned his head, noticing an underslung blaster cannon connected by a giro, all pointed backwards. Combined with a number of cameras likewise pointed that way, he suspected these modifications were meant for a secondary gunner.

'Although if that be the case,' Poe thought, 'at what cost?'

He then turned to his left and across the massive hangar was yet another railway, this time for a line of bomber Poe had only ever seen the blueprints for during Flight School. The TIE/Pn or Punisher was an advanced variant of the TIE-Bomber, with additional missile and bomb pods, and what he suspected to be a shield generator.

Poe shuddered at the thought of them in action, and part of him was glad that they hadn't been deployed en mass to Jakku. He had already seen the gruesome work of similar bomber craft in both the Outer Rim and the Antiga system. Poe could only laugh as he was led further into the depths of the Ravager.

'What other toys are these guys packing?' He thought to himself as the door shut behind him with a hiss.

* * *

Phasma hadn't spoken a word on the ride back, the empty seats making up half the dropship haunting her. Echo-Two-One hadn't been the only unit to receive casualties. Echo-Two-Three had being wiped out to a man, and every fireteam had suffered a casualty. It wasn't particularly singular, but every death weighed heavily on her mind. In retrospect, the casualty projection for the assault had been considerably higher, but even these many was hard.

However, the situation of FN-2187, or Eighty-Seven as his men called… had called him, was unique in a morbid sense. Though others had died, their squads were still relatively intact with brothers alive to aid in the grieving process.

Phasma cursed softly. Those who claimed that the bondness of her Troopers and the subsequent grieving for lost comrades was a weakness, were fools. She had learned long ago that family was everything. You could lose everything, but you still had family. You still had the tribe.

Phasma sighed wearily as she looked down at the Trooper in question, seated across from her with his head hung low. She knew what it meant to be the last of her tribe. To know the feeling of… powerlessness, as the ones you know were stripped away one after the other.

She knew all too well.

"Making touchdown," the pilot responded over the comm., "welcome home, Troopers."

The ramp hiss open as it clangged to the floor, and the Troopers departed. Phasma was the last to leave. Eighty Seven hadn't moved when the others had departed. Instead, he continued to wallow in sorrow, holding his head in his hands.

"FN-2187."

The Trooper looked up, the bloody handprint shining brightly against the hangar backdrop. Phasma stared at him for a long moment before she commanded, "Take off your helmet, Trooper."

Eighty-Seven did not immediately respond to the order. Any other time, such disobedience would've received an immediate snap of her voice. Instead, she calmly repeated the command, "Take off your helmet, Trooper."

Eighty-Seven stared at her again before nodding somberly. When he removed the helm, she could clearly see his stained cheeks. His eyes averted downward, his silence telling. She shook her head softly, and with a subtle hiss, revealed the face many in the Corps regarded as Mother.

"Eighty-Seven," the name caught the Troopers attention, "I read your platoon leaders reports. There was nothing you could've done differently. You did your job the best any could."

"My men…" Eighty-Seven whispered, a noticeable strain upon his voice as he coughed to regain it, "my men are dead and I'm not."

Phasma closed her eyes. She could see it. The young girl of 16 left in a radioactive desert, her family in graves before her.

"I should've died with them," Eighty-Seven uttered almost at the moment she herself remembered saying those same words all those years ago.

"No," she shook her head, "there is no need to waste another life, Trooper. Especially not yours."

"I failed them, ma'am. I promised to get them out alive, and I failed them."

"And you would fail them if you died needlessly."

He didn't respond. He just continued to stare at the floor as though it were alive. She sighed, taking a seat next to the younger man, staring at the same floor. "I know what it's like."

He looked her way and she continued. "To have everything you know, everything you grew comfortable with just… disappears. That the memory you carry stings until it becomes venom in your soul."

He continued to stare at her, his expression unreadable. She shook her head. "And one day, you end up catching yourself wishing that none of it ever existed, so that you would be spared the burden of carrying it."

She sighed, closing her eyes as her head drooped. "It never gets easier. It just becomes something else."

They sat in the silence of the craft for a long length. They might have even sat for hours if not for the flight crew coming in to make repairs. As the two of them rose and returned their helms, the Captain took him by the shoulder.

"I'm putting you on reserve status until I determine you're fit for active duty again."

"You're sending me back," Eighty-Seven's voice rang hollow, "to the Colonies?"

She nodded. "However, I want you to report to Psych-Aid at 1500 hours tomorrow for evaluation. Until then, get some rest," she patted his shoulder comfortingly and turned to head back for her own debriefing, "take as much time as you need."

"Ma'am?"

She stopped and turned, "Yes, Trooper?"

"The pilot we captured… what's going to happen to him?"

"The same as all our enemies. Interrogated for information and disposed of at a later date."

Eighty-Seven's stare, even behind the helmet, was unusual. One that she didn't fully understand in the moment. She smiled slightly though.

"Do not worry about such matters, Trooper. Rest," she about faced and continued her march, calling in her comm, "justice will come to him soon enough."

Back on the planet, dawn rose over the horizon as BB-8 ascended the hill, overlooking the previous night's slaughter. Smoke rose from the center in oily blacks and grays, the remains of the homes and buildings scorched into rubble like tombstones. The signs of war lay heavy and all the droid could do was close his eye and shake his head.

Part of him hadn't wanted to come back; to just keep running into the desert and maybe find a way off world. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't run knowing that his friend might still be out there looking for him. He also knew that if he did come back, there was a chance that he might not like what he would find.

He eventually made the decision to turn around and come back. Now, he needed to follow through. He rose somberly from his spot and made his way down to the center of the village, where piles and piles of bodies had been tossed into a bonfire. Grimly, he began scanning them, quickly detecting that they'd been shot first before being burned.

'They wanted to hide the evidence,' he quietly concluded, 'or at least delay its discovery.'

He pulled up Poe's medical file. Facial identification was impossible now, so he would have to do a dental examination. He popped his skeletal arms and began the minutes long process. He was glad he was organic; he was sure the process would've made him sick if he was. But in the end, he was relieved when he finished. Poe wasn't in the pile.

In fact, most of the men were John Doe's with no known medical records. He supposed that was a bit of a tragedy, the men dying nameless. Suddenly, a fresh identification came to his processors and he spun around.

'The old man.'

He hovered over the remains, his examination indicating that he'd been killed by a penetration to the chest cavity. What was odd was that it had an exit wound in direct line with the entry wound, and both had been seared by a heat greater than the fire that had cooked the body. Greater even that a blaster burn. There was only one weapon on his medical records that had those kinds of characteristics, and the thought made him shudder.

Was it irony that Lor San had been practically skewered by the weapon of a Jedi? He didn't know and he didn't care. He gave a final glance to the old man, nodded solemnly and moved on. He still had to find Poe, and time wasn't on his side.

For the next several minutes, he searched every nook and cranny, piling over stone and ruin but finding nothing. Hopelessness crept into his mind, and BB-8 considered turning around and getting out of this pit before he found himself joining the dead. However, there was one more section of the village he hadn't checked, and this had more promising results.

There was an adobe house on the far side of the village with eight foot holes in the walls. They hadn't been made by blaster fire, but instead had been made by blunt force.

Doors were invented for a reason, but no!' BB-8 griped as he moved inside, 'We have to go and smash through walls like that giant pitcher from the drink commercials.'

Inside were signs of a battle with blaster burns everywhere but no bodies. He was about to turn around when he saw something glinting in the sunlight. His eye widened as he realized what it was. He carefully plucked it up, staring at it for a long moment. He had never held a lightsaber before, so he figured for being curious.

He held it in both hands and ignited it. The cobalt blade burned like the brightest flame, and BB-8 almost dropped it out of fright. But he held it, feeling a kind of wonder as he stared into the flame. After a moment, he deactivated it and stored it safely inside his internal compartments. It didn't feel right leaving it here.

He quickly made his way out of the village, coming to the conclusion that Poe had been taken by the enemy. There was nothing left for him to do then but complete the mission. He might not see his friend again, but he would ensure that his sacrifice would not be in vain. As the sun rose in the east, BB-8 set out for what lay beyond in the miles of shifting scarlet sand.


	9. Intermission 1 - The Tusken of Jakku

**Intermission 1 - The Tusken of Jakku**

* * *

 **Taungsday, Nelona 3rd**

 **Jakku**

 **The Graveyard of Giants**

* * *

As the sun began to slowly rise in the predawn hour, a solitary scavenger stared up wearily at the monstrous Imperial II-Class Star Destroyer entombed amidst the dunes, its battered frame a grim reminder of the past war. The wailing wind brushed some dirt from the faded paint dubbing the wreck Inflictor as it swept through her robes. She sighed a little at the coolness of it. Even at this hour, the desert was still uncomfortably hot and the wind was always a nice refresher.

She pulled her goggles made from the remains of a Stormtrooper helmet and tasted the air through her Tusken mask

She liked the mask, if nothing else for the simple reminder of where she'd come from. The garb was enough that most people on Jakku kept their distance from her. The fear and reputation of the warmongering Sand People of Tatooine was carried far throughout the galaxy by immigrant settlers. She'd only added her own two bits to the reputation on Jakku proper.

Kangiklub, an infamous pirate gang, had been the masters of the world before she'd arrived. Now, they were just a haunting memory for the locals.

She preferred her privacy; between the gossip around Kangiklub's demise and the Tusken Raiders' reputation, nobody ever pushed it. Especially this far into the desert. Still, the prospect of braving the Star Destroyer on her lonesome was a sharp reminder of how bleak her life was, nowadays. Not just trash-diving in an old Star Destroyer, but this one in particulars.

For decades, other scavengers had launched on and off attempts to get at the precious loot the Destroyer held, but each had failed for one reason or another. Now it was her turn. She was going to have to climb through nearly two thousand feet of twisted metal and collapsed decks to reach the bridge. Only from there could she deactivate the ships lock-down procedures and open the way for the all the prime scavenging spots that eluded Jakku's scavengers for so long. It was quite the daunting task, but no one else was willing to give it another go.

"Can't be any worse than killing a Krayt Dragon," she chuckled fauxly, "c'mon, Rey. Let's go to work."

She pulled out the grappler she'd spent weeks putting together for this job. She wouldn't have enough cable to reach the very top, so she'd have to make the rest of the way on foot. Taking a moment to steel herself, she made her way up the sand dune to her entry point: a large crack in the superstructure. It was only about two feet across, but by its downward angle she concluded it would be wider beneath the sand submerging it.

Rey looked skyward, noting the position of the sun rising in the distance, and got to work. After a few minutes, she made a large enough hole to crawl into the ship ahead; securing the passageway from caving in just in case she needed to make a quick getaway. She turned to darkness above, the air cold and metallic tasting where every sound bounced like a hollow drum. Even the very walls seemed to creak and groan in protest of her presence.

She swallowed her anxiousness and reached into her bag, pulling an illuminant out and tossing it into the air. When it reached a certain point, it hovered in place and produced a bright illumination from its spherical frame. And from this light, the ghost ship was revealed. Hundreds of decks all caved in from the center, it's cargo and contents spilling out into the sand. Jutting vines of electrical conduits ran hither and thither, lights hanging unsupported from the ceiling and crumbling deck plate gave her the feeling of walking into a graveyard.

She couldn't help but imagine ghosts looking at her right now.

"Not here for trouble, guys," she said in the void, "just here to do a job."

She waited to see what would happen, but nothing did. She shook her head, making her way to the center of the ship where she'd start her climb. Her boots echoed loudly off the deck plating, bouncing from wall to wall. In the dark, she heard tiny, indescriptive sounds, the layers of metal and sand making them difficult to track.

Anything that prefered solace could be living here, especially since they might've been driven from everywhere else by other scavengers. She tugged at the metal staff cradled at her side and the blaster hidden beneath her robes. The latter only had a handful of shots left. She'd managed to increase that number somewhat, but it had required decreasing its power expenditure. She hoped she wouldn't run into something big, mean and nasty.

"Don't jinx yourself," she whispered as she pulled out her grappler, "they're as much afraid of you as you are them. Keep your distance, and they'll probably leave you alone."

She aimed the grappler at the uppermost deck and fired. The report was louder than she expected and over the din of the winding cable, she heard something screech in the distance. She looked but there was nothing there, and the sound was gone as she felt the tug of the grapple hitting metal. She shook her head, and pulled on the line. It held firm and after securing it to the ground, she started to climb.

Ten feet up, she suddenly felt a vibration in the line and she stopped. Watching it carefully, she got ready to jump to safety if the line came tumbling down. But nothing happened, and she started again. Then at thirty feet it vibrated again, stronger this time.

"Someone's playing with me. Well, I'm not going down, so deal with it."

She put haste into her climb, making it to fifty feet in a minute. Then at a hundred feet, the line violently jolted and nearly sent her falling. She held on for dear life as she was bounced around until it stabilized again. She was certain of it now: something was above her in the rafters. She took a moment to listen, and she heard the flapping of wings.

She spun around and something very big flew past her head, causing the line to spasm. More wings flapped above, not bothering to hide themselves anymore. Rey considered just stopping for nothing and getting to the top, but that was still seventy feet above. She instead anchored her feet, tangling them in a double loop, and drew her blaster.

"Come on out, uglies," she breathed slightly, her chest tight with the tension, "come out to play."

She heard leather upon air and she spun, firing point blank. The bolt struck home, lighting the air up in crimson light as something screeched and fell in a plume of burning smoke.

"Spast!" she cursed, "Night Haunters!"

There were the bigger and nastier cousins of Mynocks, brought to Jakku like ship rodents centuries ago. There was probably a nest somewhere in the upper echelons of the ship, no doubt feeding on the spare electrical circuitry. However, what concerned her more was that this was probing attack, and that were more roosting above her in the rafters.

The moment she thought this, they attacked. An entire flock of them, so many she couldn't count, swooped down in a cloud of wings, talons and hissing. She fired her pistol into the swarm, recoiling in pain as they slashed at her arms and legs. As they kept coming, she kept firing; conscious of her dwindling supply of shots.

She felt a sudden tug on her line and looked up. The Haunters were trying to chew through the cabling. She snarled and bounded up the line at them. Before they could escape, she had one by the neck and swung it like a club at the others on the line, the Haunters falling with a scream. The one she was holding bit her hand, and she retaliated by squeezing its neck until it broke with a crack.

She threw its body at the circling swarm, quickly moving up the line again. She ignored the talons racking into her body, determined to get to the top. Thirty feet, twenty, now fifteen. The Haunters sped up their attack, forcing Rey to stop and swing at them desperate as their wounds took a toll on her. Then she looked down and saw a much bigger Haunter coming at her from below, its wingspan close to twenty feet in length.

"Gotcha!" she grinned as she let go of the line and fell right on top of the flying beast. It wiggled and tousled, but she wouldn't let go of its legs as the Haunter flew all the way to the top. As the top deck came into view, she let go and rolled across the crumbling plating until she reached stabler ground. The swarm came after her, and she swung her staff at the first in line; breaking its wings and sending it plummeting to the bottom below.

The rest backed off for a moment, but Rey knew they were going to get their courage and attack all at once. She looked around desperately for something she could use, spotting an exposed fuel line next to a depowered blast door. She bounded towards it, the Haunters closing in as she ripped the line out and began spraying the ground and beasts in front of her with the liquid gas.

Momentarily stunning them, Rey drew her pistol and fired. The gas went up in flames, creating a wall of cobalt flame and burning those she'd doused. They whirled and screamed in panic, blindly flying right back into the rest of swarm and setting many of their fellows on fire. They screeched and burned in plumes of oily black smoke, eventually plummeting to their doom or retreating further into the ship.

She let out a strained breath and fell to the floor, panting. "Well… that was exciting."

Rey let herself have a few minutes to rest, waiting to see if more would come as her barrier continued to burn. When none did, she took the opportunity to treat the dozens of cuts dotting her body. After wiping away the blood, she used cyano-adhesive to bind the wounds, more commonly used for electrical parts and plastics. But it worked well enough and it was cheaper than proper binding agents.

With this done, she turned to the depowered door to find a way to the bridge. She'd brought a portable power pack, but she would need it to get the ships auxiliary systems back online. She pulled out some of her tools and tried to pry the door open, but it's locking bolts were in place. She considered trying to rewiring the locking mechanism, but without power that would be pointless.

She ran her hands along the walls, and felt a current of air. She followed it, discovering a maintenance vent, and she quickly pried off the rusty cover. She pulled out a flare and tossed it into the passageway, something small and furry scurrying away.

"Oh you've gotta be kidding me," she sighed, "why can't you just take it easy on me for once?"

This however was the only way through. She sighed, pulling out a glow rod and crawled inside. It was a tight squeeze, forcing her to remove her bag and push it in front of her as she made her way through the claustrophobic confines.

"'Come out to the Inflictor,'" she grumbled tiredly, "'we'll find some stuff, sell some junk, have a few laughs'… why did I let Zuvio talk me into doing this?"

She eventually found her exit and pushed her gear through followed by her undignifying clambering onto the floor. She wasn't quite sure where on the ship she was, considering most of the signs had long since decayed into brittle plaster. She moved along the passage ways, eventually discovering the remains of an old grav-lift shaft plus a fire-escape ladder.

She scrutinized the rusting ladder descending to the top hundreds of feet above, shaking her head. "I really need to charge Zuvio double for this."

She mounted the ladder and started to climb. As expected, it groaned with her added weight and she took every step with the utmost care. After a few minutes, she took a moment to rest, carefully observing the bolts holding the ladder in place. Some of them still looked reasonable, but others though…

Fifty feet up, it finally happened. She pulled on the next rut and the left bolt came loose. With a scream, she dangled in the air before she reached up and grabbed the next rut. It too starting to give way a loud screech at a time. With a frantic panic, she leapt forward a rut at a time, racing against the quickly deteriorating bolt line until she spotted a platform above.

As she jumped for it, the ladder gave way and crumbled into the depths below. She grabbed onto the edge, pulling herself up like a madden kitten and slumping onto the floor. Panting harder than she had with the Haunters, she had no idea how long she'd been lying like this. Minutes, an hour?

"I don't care," she sighed, "I deserve my breather."

After a few more minutes, she got to her feet and her hand brushed against something. Her heart jolted in joy as the dust cleared from the sign, the letters reading in Imperial Aurabesh Bridge.

"Finally taking it easy on me, eh Inflictor?"

The blastdoor this time wasn't locked, and she was able to slowly pry it open. When she did, a skeleton fell onto her. It took all her effort not to scream, fall over, or send the dead man falling into the depths. She coughed out the stench of must and set the skeleton against the wall. It had been an Imperial Deck Officer, judging by the tatters of its uniform. It's back rib cage was burned and broken, indicating he must've been shot and he fell onto the door.

Ahead were more bodies, some of them Navy personnel, others Stormtroopers. Even a few had the brown and khaki uniforms of Alliance Commandos. She paled, feeling the place getting to her. She imagined the dead looking at her, and she almost wanted to say sorry for barging into their home.

"C'mon Rey," she whispered to herself, "got a job to do."

She plucked an old DH-17 blaster off the floor, its paint crumbling off when she touched it. It still had a decent enough charge left, at least enough for a dozen fully charged shots with some change left over. She shoved that into her bag, and kept moving. When she turned the corner, she found the bridge… and the crew dead at their stations.

They hadn't abandoned ship. Even the captain was slumped in his chair, staring gravely out his viewport at the world that had taken his ship with hollow eyes. She felt sorry for him, and all the others she'd come across. No one deserved to die like this. No one.

The sight of it all made her think of another time. She felt rain on her shoulders, seeing the flash of crimson blades. The movement of men in masks with terrible purpose, and the screams of the dead and dying. She shook her head from the stupor, placing her hand on the captain's shoulder.

"I'll see about talking Zuvio into giving you all a proper burial."

With that out of the way, she made her way to the control console and plugged in her power pack. After several seconds, the lights in the bridge flickered to life and she began turning on the auxiliary systems one by one. The blastdoors opened behind her, and she left to make her way down into the engineering room.

She had to get there before Zuvio's other scavengers and

* * *

It had been night when it happened. One moment, BB-8 had been floating along the constant sand dunes. The next, he'd been scooped off the ground by something big and ugly, and soon found himself in the belly of a fallen Star Destroyer. For most of the night, the damn rodents had attempted to pry him apart and make his electrical guts dinner. Fortunately, much to the droid's pride, they hadn't been able to and resorted instead to cocooning to the wall like a trophy.

He was glad no one from Black Squadron was here to see him in his predicament; he was sure the embarrassment would kill him. Still, he had attempted to escape multiple times, but only once had he been able to break free of the cocoon. He'd regretted it the moment he had.

'Mama rodent is cranky,' BB-8 thought dryly to himself as he looked down at the eggs encircling his spot. He wondered how long he had before the little monsters eventually found a way to break inside him, and he groaned in despair at that. Suddenly, his audio receptors picked up footfalls far in the distance.

At first, he thought it was just more of the flying rodents crawling about. But then those same creatures screeched in rage, which was followed by the unmistakable reports of blaster fire. There was someone else here!

At this, BB-8 tried to wrench himself from the wall but the cocoon was it too strong. More of the rodents scurried off in the direction of the intruder, followed by more blaster fire getting closer. BB-8 turned up his internal volume adjuster and began chirping loudly, the sound bouncing off the wall.

The footsteps started getting louder, the rodents getting more agitated. Then a woman dressed like a Tusken Raider came charging into the room, a pair of blaster pistols in her hands and a collection of burning corpses at her feet.

"Would you stop shouting, please?" she called out in the void, "I can hear you clear enou-"

Something massive stirred in the darkness and the Tusken woman fell silent. It slithered from the shadows, rising on its haunches and towering over the woman. The ground groaned from its monstrous weight; its long slithering tail slowly and methodically swaying through the air dangerous like the rattler of a snake.

It took a step forward, stretching out its long velvet wings and letting out an ear splitting scream. The Tusken woman dropped to the floor in pain and even BB-8 to wince from discomfort. When it finished, it swiped out its tail and sent the woman flying across the room. BB-8 tore at his binding like a mad beast as the Nest Queen launched itself at his would-be rescuer.

The Tusken drew her pistols forward and fired point blank at the creatures chest, causing it to recoil in pain. She continued firing, the Queen litting up with smoke until her it finally lashed out again at the Tusken with its tail. She flew out of sight, the blasters discharging before they were sent across the room. The bolt struck the cocoon, burning a sizable hole in its webbing.

"You scuta!" the woman cursed as she dodged another of the Queen's attacks, whacking it over the head with a staff. Then she began… unscrewing it? BB-8 didn't know what she was doing, but before she could finish she was suddenly body slammed by a pack of the Haunters. Her staff went flying as they pinned her down under their weight, the Queen towering over its prey with a cackle of triumph.

"'Hey, you overgrown rat! Over here!'" BB-8 roared at the beast, getting it and the rest of the broods attention just for the moment he needed. The droid fired his thrusters at their maximum power, pushing himself against the burned hole until he finally tore through. He barreled at the Queen like a cannonball, bowling it over and drawing both his plasma torch and arc-caster. The Queen swiped at him again with its tail and he bobbed away like a boxer.

"'Burn!'" he bellowed in binary, firing off his arc-caster. With the crackle of ozone, the lightning struck the beast in the chest and dropped it writhing onto the floor. He then aimed his modified torch, letting loose a ball of fire like dragons breath upon his tormentor.

As it burned and wailed, the rest of the brood lunged at him. He dodged their attacks, shocking and burning all of them with vicious delight. They had knocked him around, tried to eat him and utterly humiliated him. He couldn't help it then but let out a manic cackle as it burned them all to smoldering crisp.

"'Burn! Burn, all you! Burn!'"

"Ugh," he heard the woman groan as she tried to get up, "why does it smell like one of Greez's barbeques-oh no! Stop it, you idiot! You'll burn up the entire room!"

BB-8 snapped out of his sadistic stupor and quickly started dousing everything with coolant foam. He let out a binary sigh of relief as the last of the flames died down, and then he caught the Tusken woman reach for something behind him.

"'Uh oh!'" BB-8 whipped around with his arc-caster readied, "'Don't you move a muscle!'"

"Hey…" she soothed with her hands raised, "take it easy, I'm not here to hurt you. Hell, I didn't even know you were here until you started blubbering like a baby!"

"'I am not a baby!'"

"Yes you are, considering the state of this room!" she replied with a huff.

"'Wait… you can understand me?'"

"Yeah, I can understand binary. Good luck trying to get me to speak it though," she chuckled.

"'Okay smartypants, who the blazes are you and what are you doing here?'"

"Well, my little pyromaniac, I'm Rey. And I'm actually grocery shopping. Well, technically, parts shopping, but they're about the same thing."

"'Parts shopping? What are you, a mechanic?'"

"Well, I like to think so. Sounds better than just some dirty ol' scavenger. I mean, look at all this!" she gestured to the burning bodies, "I deserve to be called a mechanic after dealing with this amount of Bantha Ozik! Sure, I don't have a license officially, but I damn well still deserve it!"

"'...you are one odd person, you know that?'"

"Well-"

"'And you like saying 'well!' Stop that, it's bugging me!'"

"I don't care!" she faux-snorted, "I like saying well, and you can damn well know I'm not gonna stop saying it on your account!"

"'Ha, Poe would've liked you! He likes women with a snark!'"

"Who's Poe?"

"'Uh huh, I'm still asking the questions here, missy!'" he gestured his caster at her, "'Who are you working for? Speak up, or I'll jazz you!'"

"'Jazz me?'" she shook her head with a laugh, "Have you ever done an interrogation before?"

"'...no,'" he sighed, "'I've had a hard week and my best friend's gone missing.'"

"Poe?"

"'Yeah,'" he put away his weapon, figuring the woman was too cheerful to be some Imp-wannabe. "'Our ship crashed a day and night ago. We got separated. I've been looking for him ever since.'"

"I know the feeling. I crashed here a while back too. That's actually why I'm here," she sighed, "I work for a Kyuzo named Zuvio, who works for nobody but himself in case you were wondering."

"'I figured as much. What's your name?'"

"Rey. What's yours?"

"'I have a long serial number, but Poe and pretty much everyone else calls me BB-8. Speaking of which, have you seen him? Tall, good looking with black hair? Probably wearing a pilot's uniform?'"

"Heh, I wouldn't have missed him with that description. But I'm sorry, I haven't."

"'Damn,'" he sighed, "'thanks for the rescue. I'll be-'"

"Hold on, I want to make a deal with you."

"'Huh? What kind of deal?'"

She shrugged. "I know a lot of people on this planet. I could put the word out, see if anybody's seen him. And plus, Jakku's not the safest place in the verse… as you've already seen. Why don't you stick with me for a while?"

"'What's the catch?'"

"Well… any chance you might help me take apart a Hyperdrive?"


	10. Chapter 7 - Being Unmade

**Chapter 7 - Being Unmade**

* * *

 **Taungsday, Nelona 3rd**

 **Outskirts of the Jakku System**

 _ **Resurgent**_ **Class Star Destroyer** _ **Ravager**_

* * *

It hadn't been the first time Poe had been tortured. On Antiga Prime, he'd been captured and held for nearly a week by Pro-Imperial Loyalists until a pair of Jedi Knights had been able to break him out. During that time, he'd been deprived of food, sleep and comfort while his captors had beaten him constantly before tossing him into an arid metal box to fry until the next round of beatings commenced. And in that time, he'd held on with a cocky smile and his typical sarcastic wit, knowing that he had to just hold on until help came. But here… here was an entirely different matter. He was being held in a ship nobody knew about, and the only person who knew he was here was Counselor Leia Organa and even then, admitting the fact she'd sent active military personnel into a neutral sector would've sealed his fate.

Unlike on Antiga, there would be no help coming for Poe. No plucky rescue to share drinks over and laugh. No, he'd accepted his fate the moment he was brought aboard the Star Destroyer. All that mattered now was just buying time for BB-8 to escape the sector and get back to the New Republic with the information he had. And so, he committed himself to that, and steeled himself for what would come next. However, in the two nights they went to work on him, their methods were nothing like what the Antiga Loyalists used on him all those years ago.

They strapped him to an injection table, the kind used by medical professionals to keep a constant flow of stimulants and liquid running through a body. Then they began feeding him through IV drips a stream of various toxins found in great excess in the Unknown Regions. The most notable one made his nerves hypersensitive to where even the feeling of air moving across his skin made him scream in utter pain. Others attempted to make him lucid, spilling out information in an almost drunken state. Then there were the more conventional methods.

Taking advantage of his drug induced state, a simple slap was more than enough to make him pass out. A prick of the skin, a rub against his forearm, all made him feel like he was on fire. Worser still, they'd put a black bag over his head, making it impossible for him to see who was torturing him, which became almost maddening. Even the psychological methods used were different. Typically, they'd ask a question and Poe would joke and mock them. But here, his torturers actually bantered with him, some even going so far as to mock him right back with steely insults that impressed even Poe.

And yet Poe held on. He wasn't sure if it was his sense of humor, or the fact he was protecting his best friend, but he refused to give into them. That of course hadn't stopped him passing out a dozen times, or from soiling himself after the pain became too much. They'd of course shamed him for that, too. Granted, Poe got back at them by telling an elaborate story about how Poe had met their mothers on a far off world with many great brothels, which had been answered with them knocking him into unconsciousness.

On the second day, he woke. Only this time, the bag was removed, and Kylo Ren was staring at him from across the obsidian room.

"Comfortable?" the man in the mask asked.

"Not really," Poe groaned as he rose to meet him, even though it pained him greatly to do so.

"You know," he began pacing the room, circling him over and over again, "not many have been able to last as long as you. The First Order's had many years to perfect their methods. I am impressed."

"Yeah?" Poe smirked, "Well, you should probably rethink your technique."

"You realize there is no point to this," Kylo Ren stepped forth before him, staring down at him like a reaper in a graveyard, "no one is coming to save you."

"I figured that part out."

"We'll get what we need eventually. All that depends on you, and in what state you want to be left in when they're done with you."

"Oh, please," his smirk grew wider, "I had worse back at the Academy."

"Yes," he chuckled, "as I remember."

That caught Poe by surprise. "Who are you?"

Kylo Ren did not answer. Instead, he continued to circle him.

"Truth be told, I'd expected this much from you. There is a reason you are considered the best pilot in the New Republic Navy, as much as my colleagues would deny it. Yet… I know the truth."

"What truth?"

Kylo stopped in front of him again, and this time leaned in until he was uncomfortably close with him. "Your mother, of course."

Poe eyes narrowed in anger, but he did not reply.

Kylo merely tilted his head and continued, "When she died, it caused you a great pain. It tore a hole in your heart you've never been able to fill. Perhaps that's why you've never been able to settle down. Why you always move from woman to woman. You simply can't."

"Shut up," Poe snarled, and Kylo chuckled at this.

"And so, you did everything you could to make her proud. You went into the Navy, pushed every challenge you had to the limit. But in the end, it's not enough, is it? You know, in the back of your mind, that you will never truly honor her memory."

"I said shut up!"

"That doubt eats away at you. Drives your every choice, your every decision. That pain is you, as much as you wish to deny it."

Poe tried to break from his restraints again, to get his hands on the man in the mask. But they merely tightened and he screamed in pain as the deceptive sensation of bones breaking throbbed in his mind.

"That is the reason behind your success," Kylo continued, "no pain will ever be more unbearable than in that moment. Shall I show you?"

"No!" Poe screamed. Kylo Ren raised his hand, and cold fingers suddenly dug into Poe's mind. He felt his psyche being upturned, his brain being ripped apart piece by piece as though a surgeon was going to work on it. He fought. He resisted, but in the end it didn't matter. His head was sent back into the table with a loud _thud_ as the fingers dug deeper and deeper. He screamed and screamed as he sealed his eyes shut.

"There is no escape," Kylo Ren's voice echoed in his mind and at this, Poe opened his eyes. He wasn't on the Star Destroyer anymore. He was on Yavin IV, in his old home. That was when he heard her voice. Her weak, desperate voice.

"Poe?"

"Mom?" Poe gasped as he saw her, dying in her bed. She was worn and fragile, her skin hanging onto her bones like old leather. She was in pain. So much pain. He took her hand in his, and the effort made her squeal.

"Mom… I'm so sorry," Poe wept as she stared at him with pain filled eyes, desperate and longing.

"Poe… please… please…"

"What?" Poe asked desperately, "What do you need me to do?"

"Don't… don't…" then she gasped, her eyes widening as her final breath escaped her lips. Then she went limp and slumped against the bed.

"No," Poe cried as he cradled her body in his arms, "mom…"

Suddenly, her body began to crumble like ash. Turning to black and peeling away like the wind had taken her.

"NO!" he screamed as she fell apart before him, and the world went black around him. In the accusing stillness of it all, he was no longer the dashing Commander Dameron. He was Poe, the boy who'd lost his mother. And in this, he wept and cried as he collapsed on the floor in a broken heap.

* * *

"The map is with his droid. A BB model, orange markings. My guess would be that it eluded your forces during the attack on the village."

"That would mean the droid has had at least two days worth of time to go in any number of possible directions," Captain Phasma commented, "the droid could be anywhere on the planet by now. Admiral, what are your thoughts?"

From his commanding view from the bridge of his Star Destroyer, Grand Admiral Ramius Hux stared into the vacuum of space with a deepening frown and a frustrated furrow of his brow.

"I'm thinking this planet is nothing but trouble," he replied, running his gloved, mechanical hand through his silver hair, "thirty years ago I fought Ackbar over this world. I lost a lot of good men then thanks to the ineptitude of my superiors. Today feels much the same."

"Yes sir," Phasma replied quietly.

"I wasn't referring to you at all, Captain," Hux chuckled softly, "I'm just sentimental about things. And I can't help but notice that out of all the places we'd be, it would be here."

"Life I suppose is funny that way," Kylo shrugged, "or it's just the way the universe works."

"Yes, I suppose so." Discreetly, Hux felt for where the stump of his arm end and where the prosthetic began. The phantom pain of the lightsaber still stung there, more so since they'd gotten in-system. He looked out the viewport, seeing the ghosts of the battle that had defined his career and put him at the seat of the new Imperial government. And here he was again.

Lord Kylo was right. Life was funny that way.

"More to the point, Captain, this planet hasn't changed much since I was last here. It's still full of opportune scavengers who pick from the bones of the dead. A droid of that worth? It will not be long it is acquired by someone unfortunate enough."

He about faced and came up to a tactical display of the planet below, "Captain, I want you to deploy squads to each of the settlements on this planet. In the meanwhile, we will conduct a screen of all ships leaving this sector with our SATCOM units to monitor and if necessary jam communications coming from the system. In due time, the droid will eventually be found."

"Sir, is that particularly wise? Regardless of our objective, this is still the Neutral Zone. If the New Republic discovers our presence here-"

"Yes," Hux groaned as he settled into his chair, his age telling upon his frame, "this is a difficult position we find ourselves in. In whatever case, we all know that war is inevitable. However, acquiring that droid is paramount to us **surviving** what comes next, let alone achieving victory. Carry out your orders, Captain."

"Yes, sir."

As she was about to leave, he called her back a moment. "Oh, that request you made?"

"Yes sir?"

"I grant it. However, I wish to know why you made it in the first place."

"Sir?"

"FN-2187. While I understand you had him on the candidate list for advanced training, I am curious why you've paid him this much attention. He is not the first remnant you've commanded."

"No sir, he is not. My reasons are… personal, sir."

"Personal, Captain?" he asked with a frown.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"I know how the man feels. His squad was his family. And you, sir, know very well how I was when you found me after I lost **my** family."

The Admiral nodded knowingly. "I do."

"Without you, I wouldn't be alive to stand here, sir. FN-2187 is one of the finest troopers I've trained, but he is still only human. I would rather not waste his potential by not giving him the proper time to heal. And I am certain our psychoanalysts would agree."

"Fair enough. You are dismissed."

"Thank you, sir."

As she turned to leave, however, the Admiral held up a hand again. Kylo Ren was standing at the view port, his arms crossed, pondering.

"What are you thinking about, son?" the Admiral asked after a moment.

Kylo Ren sighed and turned about, "The Trooper with the bloody handprint on his helmet you brought in. Is this FN-2187?"

Phasma turned from the blast door to face him, "Yes, my lord. Why do you ask?"

"The Knights may have found a new initiate."

* * *

They wouldn't look at him. Despite the bustling of Troopers in their various barracks and the milling about of ship personnel who brushed past in droves, never once did they look at him directly. It was if they were avoiding him. No, not if. Were.

The days he'd spent in sickbay, it had no doubt become common knowledge what had happened to Echo-Two-One, and to its sole surviving member. As he marched through the hallway, he didn't know if the absence was out of pity, or out of contempt. In either case, it made him feel even more hollow and cold than he already was. Yet, as he came to the door of his barracks, the truth stared at him blank faced. He'd dreaded coming here, where his men had been alive two days prior. And now, he returned alone.

The door opened with a loud _hiss_ , and he was greeted with the accusing empty bunks. He stood in the threshold for a long moment, the sounds of memory plaguing him. The boisterous laughter and curses and banter of his brothers echoing like specters. And there he stood, staring at it all. Staring… unfeeling. A dead man walking.

"Why?" he asked to the room, its silence like the verdict of a court, the sentence yet to fall. He asked again, and the room seemed to recede further into darkness. He heard another squad coming his way, and he step inside to get out of their way. Only when he did, the door closed behind him.

 _Eighty-Seven?_

He turned around, but nobody was there. He heard his name called again, and again, and again. He whirled about in all directions in panic as the voices kept getting louder and louder, their menacing becoming accusing in nature:

 _Why did you let us die?_

 _You failed us!_

 _You promised to keep us safe!_

 _Why are you still alive?_

He collapsed to his knees, his hands over his helmet as he fumbled over. Weakly, he whispered:

"Leave me alone."

 _You coward!_ the voices screamed back, _That's what you are! A weak pathetic coward!_

"Leave me alone."

 _You are weak. A bumbling fool who couldn't save us! Just like you couldn't save that family on Jakku! Just like you couldn't kill that Rebel Scum!_

A sudden rage took over Eighty-Seven. Shaking with incomprehensible fury, he roared:

"I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!"

He wrenched his helmet from his head and threw it hard against the wall, knocking over a table and sending its contents clattering to the floor. He didn't stop there. He ripped away his armor piece by piece and tossed them across the room, slamming into beds, walls, and even knocking out one of the lights. Even his body glove was violently plucked away, tattering to the floor as Eighty-Seven huddled in a corner, the cold air biting into his exposed skin. He panted and hissed angrily, his eyes wide and wild as he shouted at the wall:

"Why!? Why did you take away my men!? Why!? Why am I still alive and they're not!? Answer me, damn you!"

But there was no answer. No voices to tell him otherwise. Nothing to address the burning guilt ripping into him and tearing him apart from the inside out. And as he stared at the wall, he started to cry. He shook with the effort, seizing up as tears and sobs escaped his disciplined frame.

"It was supposed to be me!" he wailed, "I was supposed to go, not them! I was the one that should've died. What did Slip do any differently than me, huh? What did Zeroes and Nines do that got them killed? Why?"

As he wept, he crossed his arms over his legs and began to rock and forth.

"Why didn't you let me die with them, then?"

The scene played over and over in his mind. The pilot. The family. The thousand chances he had to put a bolt in him, to grant him the death he wanted.

"Why did you let me live?"

The New Republic was his enemy. Their people oppressors, bent to the will of a corrupt government and serving the interests of self serving men with power and money. They were his enemy. An enemy he'd sworn to destroy, and who would've shown him no mercy. Who torn apart an order of peace and security to rule with a reign of anarchy and destruction. And yet…

"Why did he save that family?" he asked himself, their faces coming into view, both in life and in death. Why would his enemy risk his own life to save people he didn't even know? Why would he spare an enemy that wouldn't have spared him return?

 _But you did,_ his mind told him, _he dropped his guard as much as you. And yet, you didn't kill him. Why?_

"Because I'm a coward," he replied back somberly. He reached through the pile of armor and gear, and found his sidearm. He took it in his hands, feeling the weight and the cold plas-steel and polymer. He checked the charge pack, pointed at the wall… and then angled it under his chin. The steel of the barrel was flush against his skin; making him shiver, making his jaw quake and his body shake.

His finger hovered over the trigger, slowly squeezing it.

 _Do it,_ the voices whispered in the background, _do it. Join your men. It's what they would want._

His eyes shot open, and he saw them in their deaths. Zeroes choking to death, Nines gone in a flash, and Slip dying in his arms, his hand leaving the bloody imprint. He saw them in life, saw them laugh and smile and share their accomplishments together. And in that moment, he saw them turn and look at him, their expressions one of horror and pain. Slip raised his hand desperately and gestured at him; his face becoming frantic.

 _No._

Eighty-Seven continued to stare at them with guilt-ridden eyes, the blaster still held firm. They all looked at him again, shaking their heads as they turned their backs on him. Slip looked back, looking at him pleadingly one last time until he raised his hand.

 _Goodbye._

With that, he too turned away. Eighty-Seven clenched his eyes shut. His finger squeezed until…

"No."

He wrenched the blaster away from him, staring at it in horror and utter confusion; like it was something he did not recognize. He shook his head wearily, and the blaster clattered to the floor. He hung his head, and stared down at the floor that held him.

 _Why did he let you live? Why did he save them? Why?_

"Don't worry," the voice of Captain Phasma rang in his mind, "justice will come to him soon enough."

 _Does he deserve to die? Does he deserve to die like your men? Like that family?_

"No... he doesn't."

Eighty-Seven rose to his feet, and began gathering up his scattered armor. Slowly, he began to don it. The helmet hissed into place as he marched out the door, his footfalls echoing off the obsidian deck plating as he whispered:

"I won't let him die."


	11. Chapter 8 - Can you fly a Tie-Defender?

**Chapter 8 - "Can you fly a TIE-Defender?"**

* * *

 **Outskirts of the Jakku System**

 **Resurgent Class Star Destroyer Ravager**

* * *

Poe was still alive, still breathing, but he didn't feel like it. He felt broken and exposed, like his mind had been unmade. His soul utterly desecrated. And as he lay on the table, staring up at the cold and desolate ceiling, he longed for death to come and take him.

He suspected that would come soon, too. He was a Commander in the New Republic Navy, one of their best fighter pilots… but nothing more and nothing less. Beyond what he had done with First Order's prize, he'd long since become expendable. That however wasn't what bugged him.

If his interrogators had failed to extract what he'd done with the map, then he would've died a happy man. If he had died in battle, that would've been satisfactory too. Instead, he was going to die like trash, strapped to this table. The prospect made him angry. Angry at the man who'd dug up his repressed memories; angry that he hadn't fought harder.

With a snarl, he dug his heels into the plate holding him down and tried to wrench himself free. It was hopeless, of course. But then he noticed that he wasn't feeling any pain. He pulled on his arms and legs, feeling nothing. The toxins had worn off.

"Well, that's a start. Guess I'm not important enough to keep doped up anymore."

The door to his cell suddenly opened and a Trooper walked in. Poe looked up at him and smirked. "What? Miss me already?"

The Trooper didn't reply. Instead, he looked at him for a long stretch to the point it made Poe somewhat uncomfortable.

"You gonna stand there all day or what?" he asked, about to add something along the lines of he was just that good looking when the Trooper moved and started unclamping his restraints. He pulled Poe to his feet, cuffing his hands in front of him and pushed him out the door.

"Where you taking me?" Poe asked as they rounded a corner and passed by a squad of Troopers. Poe caught his escort looking at them strangely.

"Lord Ren wants you for further questioning," his escort replied loud enough for them to hear.

"You mean execution, don't you, Buckethead?"

"Just keep moving and stay quiet."

"Why?" Poe yelled, "I'm just gonna die anyway, so why not now?"

The Trooper smacked him over the top of the head with his blaster and snarled, "I said 'keep quiet'!" He then took him by the arm, and gestured right, "Turn here."

They turned into a dimly lit and narrow hallway, and Poe smiled as his chance presented itself. As they disappeared out of sight, he suddenly dropped to the floor and kicked out at his escort. It sent him crashing into a wall, but he was already recovering as Poe tried to rip his weapon from him.

The Trooper twisted and turned, attempting to push him backwards. Poe dug his back foot in, and shoved the Trooper back against the wall. Then his sight was sent spinning as the Trooper suddenly headbutted him; kicking him to the floor with his blaster trained on him.

Through clenched teeth, the Trooper whispered tersely, "Do you want to get out of here alive, or not?"

Poe looked at him dumbfounded, "What?"

The Trooper ducked his head out into the hallway and looked both ways. The Trooper seemed satisfied that they were alone, because he then removed his helmet to reveal a close shaven, dark skinned man.

"This is a rescue," the Trooper replied, "I'm helping you escape."

Poe was still dumbfounded as he rose slowly to his feet, asking, "Are you with the New Republic? Some kind of _spook_?"

The question seemed to anger the man like if it had been an accusation. But he quickly suppressed it, replacing it with a hurried expression. "No. But I'm breaking you out. Can you fly a TIE-Defender?"

Poe shot him a puzzled look. Why would a Stormtrooper be breaking him out if he wasn't with the New Republic?

"I can fly anything," he stated matter of factly as he searched the man's eyes for… something. Eventually, he asked the obvious, "Why are you helping me?"

The Trooper seemed puzzled by the question, and Poe could feel he was searching for an answer. Not a lie, he could tell if he was. But instead a reason. The Trooper met his eyes and answered with a reserved sense of conviction. "Because it's the right thing to do."

Poe stared at him for a long moment, not sure of what to say. Still, he had the opportunity to escape, and he knew he needed to take it regardless of how strange the circumstances had become. "Okay. Can you get me to the hanger?"

"Yes," the Trooper replied as he donned his helm, "just do as I say and I'll get us there."

"Sure thing, Buckethead," Poe smirked, and he swore he heard a chuckle behind him. Fortunately enough for the pair of them, the trip to the lift and the ride up the various decks was uneventful. That however changed when the doors opened and a group of technicians greeted them with surprised looks.

"Lord Ren requested the prisoner be brought to his quarters," the Trooper grunted.

"Well, you're heading the wrong way, Trooper," a Technical Sergeant replied, "his quarters are down a few decks."

"I see. My apologies, Sergeant." He was about to close the door when he stopped, "I don't suppose you'd show me where that is, Sergeant?"

"Of course. Lord Ren had to be transferred after he requested his original quarters be renovated after some accident. I doubt you would've been informed so soon."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

They backed up against the wall as the four men came into the lift, turning their backs to them. Poe resisted the urge to ask what he was doing when he felt the Trooper slip him his sidearm. Poe felt that the weapon had been set to stun, and he smiled slightly.

 _On three?_ He mouthed. The Trooper nodded and they raised their blasters as one. The technicians fell like wet rags under the barrage of stud bolts, and the Trooper opened the door just slightly. Certain no one was there, he opened the door fully and quickly filed out with Poe. He closed the door behind them and activated the _Under Repairs_ sign.

"Smart," Poe complimented. The Trooper gestured his hand forth, and Poe reluctantly surrendered the sidearm. A few minutes later, they entered the massive expanse of the hangar, and Poe couldn't help but feel amazed again at the sight of it.

"Keep your eyes down," the Trooper whispered, "make it look like you're walking to an execution."

"Yeah, yeah, I know how to play a damsel in distress."

As a column of Troopers passed them by, he quickly put on a look of defeat and averted his eyes from them. He assumed it worked because they kept on walking.

"Okay, which one?" Poe whispered as the rows and rows of fighters came into view.

"Fleet Defender," the Trooper replied, "has two seats. Regular model's too small for the both of us."

"Does it have a hyperdrive?"

"No. But it does have more armor and guns on board. Short ranged craft, meant to be an escort for support vessels. Should buy us enough time to get down to the planet."

"Good, I need to get back down there, anyway."

"Your droid?"

"Yeah… how do you-?"

"The Admiral's put out orders to send searching parties down to the planet."

"Great," he groaned, "just great. Alright, one thing at a time, then."

Once they were out of sight and under cover, the Trooper released Poe's cuffs and they took off for the fighter. Carefully, they inspected the closest one, Poe checking its fuel count and external systems. Satisfied, he nodded and the two quickly slipped inside.

"Well, this is comfier than usual," Poe commented as he began the automatic checklisting.

"You've flown one of these before?" the Trooper asked as he slipped into the backseat, removing his helmet.

"Back in the Academy, yeah. One of Thrawn's prototypes. Hey, what do you see back there?"

"Blaster controls, I think? I've got a pair of joysticks here."

Poe noticed similar controls on his end, his time in the cockpit of a Defender coming back to him. "Okay, the toggle on your left. Do you see a red switch along the side?"

"Yes."

"That manually switches between blasters and missiles. The joysticks controls magpulses, and the one on the right controls your sight alignment," he then corrected himself, "it's for aiming."

"Copy. Triggers to fire?"

"Yup. Strap yourself in, I'm about to start the take off procedures."

"Right. I'm good to go."

"Hey," Poe asked as he leaned over the seat to look at him, "what's your name?"

The Trooper replied, "FN Twenty-One Eighty-Seven."

Poe looked at him flabbergasted, "FN what?"

"FN Twenty-One Eighty-Seven," he repeated again, "my squad calls me…" he froze, a look of pain flashing across his face as he sighed, "did, call me Eighty-Seven."

Poe had seen that look before, and had a good idea why he had it. But he didn't push the issue, instead commenting on his 'name.' "That's not a name! That's a serial number!"

"It's the only thing they gave me."

"Yeah? Well, only droids go by their serial-numbers, and you sure as hell don't look like a clanker, so I ain't using it!"

"Thanks," he replied before he tilted his head in slight confusion, "I guess?"

"Yeah, well… you're welcome," he then sat back in seat, musing softly, "FN... FN… Finn!"

"What?"

Poe turned back around in his seat, "FN. Finn. I'm gonna call you Finn. That work?"

"I…" he chuckled embarrassingly, "I guess? Whatever works for you."

"Alright, Finn," Poe smiled winningly as he extended his hand, "I'm Poe Dameron. Nice to meet you."

Finn took his hand with a strong grip, shaking it with a nod, "Nice to meet you too, Poe Dameron. Hope we don't die."

"Not on my watch! You're looking at the best pilot in the New Republic Navy!"

"Well, if you get us out of here in one piece, I won't dispute that."

"Challenge accepted," a cocky smile crossed Poe's lips as he took the controls and the fighter came to life with like the roar of a dragon. Howling loudly as it ascended into the air, the black and red fighter hurtled towards the hangar doors at breakneck speed.

"Whoa, this thing really moves!" Poe laughed as the G-force hit him squarely in the chest.

* * *

Captain Phasma whirled around when the intercom suddenly blared out, " _Command, we have a runaway on Bay 2. I repeat, we have a runaway Fleet Defender making for the planet below."_

Admiral Hux was quick to the command, "Launch Strikers and intercept that fighter! Bring the main guns online, but only it they get past our perimeter! Captain… Captain?"

Phasma however wasn't listening. She'd pushed a technician out his seat, accessing the main data files and bringing up Barracks #2478. Her heart stopped as the information came in.

"FN-2187," the voice of Kylo Ren took her by surprise and she whirled around to face him, his helm like an accusing glare, "isn't it?"

The Captain swallowed as she replied, "He is not in his barracks, and his platoon reports seeing him leave almost an hour ago."

"And the pilot Poe Dameron is with him."

Phasma felt her face grow hot as fire as she snarled, "He is not a traitor! My Troopers are loyal!"

"Evidently, this one is not," Kylo Ren replied dismissively, "Admiral, the pilot may be attempting to recover the droid on the planet."

"I see," the admiral replied, "and you acquired all the useful information you could from the pilot?"

"I have."

He nodded soberly, "Order the Strikers to disable that fighter if possible. If it tries to escape the system, destroy it."

"It likely won't," the Bridge Executive Officer replied, "that's a protector variant, short range only."

"Yes son, I know," Hux replied as he stared out at the planet below, "but never underestimate the prowess of a good pilot."

"Especially this one." Kylo Ren added.

* * *

The plan fell apart no less than a minute into its execution.

"Poe," Finn called out from behind, "we got hostiles, 6 o'clock!"

Poe's eyes darted to the side, pulling up the rear-view cameras. Miles away, over a dozen of the drone TIE-Strikers were being deposited upon the battlefield from the belly of the _Ravager._

"We need to get to the planet!" Finn called out, but Poe shook his head.

"Oh no, buddy. We've lost the element of surprise! If we try running, that ship will tear us to pieces! We need to take out as many of its onboard surface cannons before they bring their shields up!"

"But the Strikers are that way!"

"Trust me, I'll take clankers over human gunners anyday! Get ready, I'm taking us in!"

Poe executed a U-turn, bringing them into a direct collision course with the squadron of droid fighters. The intercom suddenly blared out, " _Surrender your vessel or you will be destroyed!"_

"Wanna bet?" Poe smirked as he removed the safety clamps on his frontal cannons. He sighted the lead fighter, bringing his sight alignment steady as the online display signalled the target was in range. He squeezed the trigger, and six laser cannons came to life with emerald fire. The Striker was hit in the front and wings, exploding in the vacuum with a concussive fireball. The rest of the squadron banked left and right as the Defender zoomed past them amid the debris of its fellow.

"They're coming around!" Poe shouted as he hugged the underbelly of the Star Destroyer, "Finn, keep 'em off of us! I'm making a run!"

"Roger!" Finn bellowed back. Poe's eyes flickered to the side, watching the droid fighters evading Finn's shots before returning fire. Sparks flared as the bolts impacted the shields, Poe banking left and right to avoid their fire. Finn managed to tag one of them and destroy another, causing the rest to disperse.

"Poe, I think I've figured out their flight pattern!" Finn called, "Swing right!"

"Swinging right!" Poe replied as he swung the craft over, the Strikers in pursuit. Poe watched his partner carefully, noticing that he was leading his aim a few hundred yards ahead. As Strikers flew in, Finn fired and clipped the second one in the wing, causing it to spin out of control and crash into the others in the line. The rest banked off to avoid the tumbling debris, Finn catching another in retreat.

"Got him!" Finn shouted.

"Nice shooting, Finn! Alright, hang on! I'm making a pass!"

In front of him was a valley of surface hull guns. These included turbo lasers, point defense lasers and missiles pods, the latter of which began turning in their direction. Poe released the safety cap on his joystick, bringing up his own missile pods. As soon as the shooting started he dived low, began spinning clock-wards and fired off his missiles. Attracted to heat, the missiles struck the surface guns and destroyed them with thunderous explosions.

As he came out of the fireball, more point defense weapons came online. Poe began diving and spinning, zipping left and right as emerald bolts as large as the fighter whipped past them. Then his warning lights came on.

"Missiles incoming!" Finn shouted as he continued firing on the pursuing Strikers.

"I see 'em, I see 'em!" Poe shouted back. He pulled on the throttle hard, causing the fighter to suddenly dive backwards and right into the middle of the swarming horde.

"What's the plan, Poe!?" Finn shouted, the vessel buckling from the laser bolts as the horde of droid fighters swept past them.

"Can't use the anti-missiles just yet! I'm gonna bring us in closer!"

"I hope you know what you're doing!"

"Yeah, me too!"

He dove under the ventral plate and rode almost flush with the line of the ship. The missiles followed in their wake, arching wide before coming center mass. Poe then flew right back into the valley of remaining surface guns, the shields flaring as they took incoming fire.

"Hang on, I'm gonna do something crazy!" He then dove to the right, swinging right past one of the point defense lasers before slowing his craft to a crawl. Behind them the missiles, Strikers and turrets all gunned for them. The shields flared wildly, the on-board computers showing the shields dropping from 45% to 33, and then 19. Warning lights started to whirl.

"Poe!" Finn screamed.

"Now!" Poe punched the throttle to the limit, the TIE-Defender rocketing forward like a raging comet as the missiles and fighters screamed after them. He darted left and flew almost flush with the hull, the missiles too close to curve away as they slammed into valley of defense turrets. Behind them, the void of space lit up with furious explosions.

"You are one hellova pilot, Poe!" Finn laughed, "Even you are damn crazy!"

"Hey, I take that as a compliment! Alright, targets ahead! Fire at will!"

Like a force of nature, the TIE Defender ripped through the next section of surface turrets, leaving behind them a long trail of destruction as they rained virescent fire down from below.

* * *

Admiral Hux grimaced at the display on the monitor below. He hadn't seen such expert piloting since the war and he was truly impressed by Poe Dameron's decisive action. It was only a shame that he was on the wrong side, otherwise he would've had him decorated with honors.

"Sir!" one of the deck personnel shouted, "They're cutting through our surface guns faster than we can engage!"

"They're trying to destroy our remaining turbo lasers so they can escape to Jakku unimpeded," the elderly commander mused before he asked, "what is the status of our shields?"

"Still coming online. Fifteen more seconds, sir!"

"Good. Order our laser batteries to begin retracting into the ship and bring the Ventral Cannons online."

"Sir, we won't be able to shoot back, and they're too close for the Ventral Cannons to be effective!"

"I know, son. I want them to try and escape. Lord Ren," he turned to the cloaked figure, "I will require your assistance. Come with me."

* * *

Poe watched as the ship's weapon systems retracted under the hull with the shields close behind. He didn't know if the Star Destroyer was using Thermal Shielding, but he didn't want to take the chance. As the energy hurtled towards them, he dove downward to escape its on rushing path. He only barely managed to pull the ship low enough, the energy clipping the upward wing and singeing a sizable chunk off. He quickly checked his onboard instruments and although shields were dangerously low, they were still flying.

"Missiles!" Finn shouted, "They're firing off the Ventral Cannons!"

"I see 'em! Deploying countermeasures!"

This had been exactly what he'd been saving them for. With a flick of several switches, the fighter shot off a barrage of hyper-sonic frequency flares. Several of the missiles veered off course, striking the flares and exploding on impact, their sensors fooled into thinking they'd hit their target. The few that didn't hit their mark continued along their flight path, but Finn took advantage of their long travel arcs and destroyed them in mid-flight.

"Nice shooting, buddy!"

"Thanks, but here comes more of them!"

* * *

Hidden among the cloud of screaming missiles was a single hidden Hunter-Killer. This missile was being guided by an operator on the bridge of the _Ravager_. As the pilot watched the screen in anticipation, careful to stay in formation with the other missiles, more flares fired off from the TIE-Defender and the other missiles zoomed out in pursuit.

"Sir!" the pilot called out to the Admiral, who stood on the observation deck with Kylo Ren, "I'm in position!"

The Admiral nodded, and said to Kylo, "He's all yours."

The Lord of Ren nodded, and raised his hand toward the view port.

* * *

"Poe, I think this is a guided missile! I can't bring it down!"

"Don't worry. I've got a plan! Just keep shooting!"

He turned his head back to his front, getting ready to perform another daring meanuever.

 _Poe?_

He looked up, and he saw his mother staring at him.

"Mom?" Poe asked in utter disbelief. She was… so beautiful. So alive. So… real. With a sadness stricken voice, she reached out her hand to him, its touch cold as she asked him pleadingly: " _Son, why are you running? Why are you running away from me?"_

"Mom… I…"

"Poe! The missile's' almost on us!"

" _You've been running away from me, Poe. You've been running away from the memory."_

"Mom," Poe's voice cracked as he felt tears run down his cheeks, "I… I couldn't. I had to-"

"POE!"

" _It's time to stop running."_

The missile suddenly struck them, ripping off one of its three wings and sending them hurtling down to the planet in a blaze of black smoke.


	12. Chapter 9 - A Walk in the Desert

**Chapter 10 - A Walk in the Desert**

* * *

 **Jakku**

 **The Graveyard of Giants**

* * *

Finn didn't recall the crash. Didn't even feel it as the smoking remains of the TIE-Defender Mk. III was thrown head over heels through the planet's atmosphere like a comet. It burned brightly like the brightest star, trailing behind a long plume of oily black smoke. Spinning and spinning, the TIE-Defender smashed into the scarlet soil of Jakku much like its ancestors did over a generation prior. It ripped through the sands, leaving behind a long arching crash some seventy feet long as bits and pieces of the fighter were torn away until only the cockpit and wing wedges with shards of the solar panels remained. At the end of it, Finn felt as though he was someplace else as he slumped over in his chair, his mind spinning in a drooling daze and his senses blurred beyond any point of recognition.

All he could truly see or feel in that moment was the numbness in his bones, the pricking in his fingers, and the constant red haze that seemed to clog his vision. There was a noise, too. Some sort of whining.

"Whining… red haze…" he muttered softly, his voice sounding so very far away. But there was something else, too. Something he couldn't identify for long stretching moments. Then, in a flash, it woke him. Screaming!

"Poe!" Finn shouted. He was alert, he was awake. And he was conscious of the smoke filling the cockpit around him. Thick, oily stuff that burned at his nostrils and made his eyes water. In such a position, any ordinary man would be excused for panicking. But Finn was not ordinary, and as the tension of the moment rolled upon him like the heat of the sun, his training kicked in automatically.

First, he located his helmet, slipping it on in a mere few seconds. As fresh oxygen and the helmets filters came online, his next move was to unstrap and move to the front of the craft, to where Poe was.

"Poe?" he asked as his hand instinctually began removing his straps, "Are you alright? What happened?"

The look on Poe's face was one of extreme pain.

"My leg," he coughed desperately, "I think it's broken!"

Finn nodded, looking down where Poe was clutching his left leg above the knee. The smoke was far too thick down there for him to see properly, so he switched to Thermal upon command. Looking downward, Finn could see that the leg itself was fairly straight and that there were no outside nor internal protrusions, suggesting that the bone had not been splintered nor directly split. That would make it easier, but first Finn needed to ensure they could get out of the burning craft first.

"Hold on," and he stood up to the hatch. He tried remotely opening the grav-seal, but it didn't respond. He removed his vibro-knife from its sheath and began precisely slicing into the vacuum seal holding the frame together, cutting it away and free. Sheathing his weapon, he then put his weight into his shoulder and began pushing. He could feel the craft starting the groan beneath him. That sent a shudder down his spine. On Parnassos, quick-sand and brittle salt patties had been the death of many a Trooper, and he was worried they might have just landed on one.

So, he froze and waited. The groaning continued and then stopped after a few moments. Finn looked down and he could see Poe was beginning to pass out from the smoke filling the cabin. With this, he threw everything he had into his shoulder and the hatch went free. Sunlight poured through the open hatchway, and Finn moved to push Poe through it. The effort was difficult in his awkward positioning, and Poe screamed in pain as his leg came free from the seat and dangled in midair. Finn then pushed up after him, seeing fire spreading all around the black and charred ruins of the fighter.

With no other choice, Finn grabbed Poe and hurled him away from the craft, insuring he would land on his back and away from his broken leg; hoping the sand would be enough of a cushion for him. With this, Finn leapt like a jungle cat just as the fire spread further into the canopy. He landed with a roll, and immediately dragged Poe as far away from the burning hunk as he could, fearing the craft might very well explode. But after waiting for close to a minute, Finn moved on to his next task. He ripped away the flight suit around Poe's leg, and there was met with a bruised mass of purple and black.

Finn wasn't a Medic, and cursed the fact he didn't have a scanner. Because of this fact, he didn't know how extensive the injury was. Finn was however trained in first aid. Softly, he applied pressure to the leg itself, feeling for any intrusions and to check if the bone was still largely intact. For the most part, it was. However, from the screaming Poe gave when he came upon the most sensitive areas, he suspected it had to have been at least a fracture.

Finn's first thought was to try and retrieve the survival kit that would've been stored with the Defender, but he knew that would've likely been burned up by now. His second was how he was going to create a splint for the leg to keep the bone straight and secure. Looking around at the wreckage all around him, that wouldn't be too much of an issue. His third was to address how he was going to move Poe. Looking up at the sky, Finn knew it was only a matter of hours before the First Order would find them, which meant they needed to get as far away from here as possible.

Poe couldn't walk, and trying to carry him would be far too much of a strain in the long run. He would need to make a stretcher and drag Poe. But what could he make it out of? He looked back at the body of the craft, and after a moment of studying its wreck saw what he was looking for.

"I'll be back."

"No… hurry," Poe groaned as Finn trotted back down the hill. He made his way to the back of the craft, dancing over the fire and debris until he came across the fighter's drag chute. It hadn't been launched, and he doubted Poe had known about it. Besides, neither of them had been in much of a state to use it in the first place. Still, it would be useful now.

As it turned out, Finn had been right earlier. No sooner than he'd cut the chute compartment free from the body of the fighter, the smoldering wreck started to sink into the soil. In less than a minute, the entirety of the TIE Defender had been dragged to the bottom of the proverbial depths of the desert. Finn had only barely escaped the desert trap with his cargo, the soil suctioning onto his armor and trying to drag him down. Finn however had been expecting it, and had slowly managed to make his way to shore before dragging himself on to firmer ground.

Ironically, the near-death experience had been a blessing in disguise. It bought them time by removing the largest evidence of their arrival. Though how much, Finn didn't know. He knew that the ship's navigational analysts would've estimate generally where they would be, and it wouldn't be long before they'd start seeing search patrols. With this in mind, Finn got to work.

Setting aside the chute, he searched the long stretching crash site, slicing through various rods of debris left over with his vibro-knife until he had enough of the right sizes he wanted.

"Heh," Poe joked as Finn began setting his leg and applying a split, "I think you missed your true calling! Should've been a sawbones rather than a- gah!" he screamed as Finn tightened the hold on the splint, causing Poe to finally pass out.

"Honestly?" Finn commented as he moved to the chute, "I don't think so."

Using the knife, he sliced the chute up into a long rectangle with loose strands to be used as knots. These he tied onto the rods leftover, forming a box frame. After testing its integrity, he moved Poe into it and secured him to the post. The weight pull hard into his shoulders and back, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. The urgency of the moment forced him onwards as the pair of them quickly escaped into the desert.

* * *

An hour later, they came across the first patrol. Finn's helmet picked it up from miles away and it gave him time to take cover as a TIE Striker came screaming overhead. He dove under the ruins of a solitary Y-Wing, partially covering Poe in sand and hoping that the Striker hadn't noticed them. Considering it didn't turn around, Finn guessed it hadn't. Still, he waited under the shade of destroyed bomber, watching the skies.

Meanwhile, his mind pondered what their next move should be. Things had gotten far too complicated, Finn admitted. They were in the middle of nowhere, and while he did have a general sense of the directions of the planet and where a settlement might be, he didn't know how far away it was. It could be hours, or it could be weeks. He didn't know.

With the weight of what he didn't know starting to crushing his already diminishing spirits, Finn focused on what he **did** know. They were alive. They had some provisions, entirely in the form of what he had stored in his equipment belt. Food wasn't much of an importance in the desert, but water was.

He removed the canteen from his belt and gave it a quick check. It was full, and by himself, Finn could ration it to a few swallows every other hour and make it last for a few days. However, now he had Poe to consider, and he was dragging him. If they were both on foot, they could make a considerable distance inasmuch a considerable amount of time without consuming too much water in the process. But that wasn't the case.

Poe was crippled, and Finn was expending precious energy dragging him, which in turn would inevitably make him consume more water. He could go a day if not more without water, but trying that while pulling Poe about would only potentially kill him. Exhaustion and dehydration were his greatest enemies… but not his only ones, he admitted. He'd hoped they would be able to get far enough away from the crash within the first few hours, maybe find someplace to hide and rest.

Unfortunately, they hadn't gotten far enough. If they were still in the search patterns of Strikers, they were still not far enough away. They were still close enough to be spotted, and once that happened… well, he might as well spare the pair of them the cruelty the First Order would no doubt show them. It was funny in a way. Finn had never much paid the enemies of the Order any sense of pity, especially not during a hunt.

Now he was in their shoes. He wouldn't laugh, but he would admit the irony.

"Focus," he whispered to himself, "get back to the mission."

He had to get off the planet with Poe alive. Finn's own survival was just an extension of making sure that happened. After that? Well, he didn't much care. There was also the droid to consider, but that thing could be anywhere, and trying to find it might just get them killed.

No, he had to focus on one thing at a time. Slowly, he went down the list of things he had to accomplish from largest and most imperative to smallest and most manageable. They had to get off the planet, they had to find a ship, they had to find a settlement, they had to find shelter and water… they had to get out of the area. He focused on that first, and went through his options.

Instinct told him he'd have a better chance of making it if he waited until night, which would not only would give him time to rest, plan and travel easier, but it would also make their approach far less detectable. However, logic told him that doing so would just increased their chance of being found, considering they were still in the search radius. He needed to get far away from here, first. Of course, there was the nagging doubt that he might just be heading straight into even deeper desert with no shelter or water available. But it was a risk he would have to take. He removed his canteen, and took a sip, no more and no less.

His throat begged for more, but he ignored it. After checking the skies again, he grabbed Poe and began double timing it in an eastward direction.

* * *

It was several hours before Poe finally regained consciousness, rubbing at the piece of parachute Finn had wrapped around his head to prevent him from cooking in the sun. Finn hadn't actually noticed for several minutes, his mind entirely locked in the process of counting steps and watching the skies above.

"Well, hello there!" Poe laughed, "Are you my nurse, by any chance? Wouldn't mind the ol' complimentary pudding! Chocolate's my favorite!"

"Hilarious," Finn shrugged as he kept on marching forward. He looked up at the sky. It would be a few more hours before dusk, and Finn considered pushing through the night. He'd run into another patrol an hour back, but that was far enough away that he didn't fear them being spotted. Still-

"Um, Finn? You do realize there's a crack in your armor, right?"

Finn froze.

"What? Where?"

"Along your back. Dunno how deep it is, but it's there. I just noticed it."

"...you just noticed it?"

"Buddy, I'm in pain," Poe responded sardonically, "I'm in a lot of pain, and it's taking everything I've got to not scream my head off! And on top of that, I've been out for a bit of a while, so cut me some slack, okay?"

"Fair enough," Finn sighed as he removed his helmet. He hadn't realized how much he was sweating. At the sight of this, he practically ripped the torso armor from his body, examining it in his hands. His air conditioning and power pack had been built into the back plate, right where the crack was. It wasn't too severe looking, but it did make him worry. Unfortunately, he didn't have the tools nor the time to take it apart and examine it thoroughly. He quickly donned the armor again, and brought up his internal systems; checking the temperature and climate gauge.

It read normally, but he didn't know if the sensors too had been damaged.

"I'll just add that to the growing list of things I still don't know."

Poe heard that bit, and assumed the rest. He looked skyward, and then behind him at the long trail stretching back for miles.

"Let's wait for the cover of night then get a move on. That'll limit our chances of being found," Poe groaned as a new well of pain shot through his leg. Finn just shook his head:

"No, we need to keep moving."

"Buddy, like it or not, your armor's broken, and you've been going at this for… what half a day now?"

"My armor's fine," Finn grumbled back, "and this is nothing I haven't handled before," he then removed his canteen and handed it to Poe, "take a sip. Save your energy."

Poe took it with a smirk.

"Is that your way of telling me to shut up?"

Finn didn't answer, and as soon as he got his canteen back, he started the march again. Poe went several minutes without starting a conversation, but in the end it would've been like asking him not to breathe.

"You seem to be taking **this** pretty well."

"'This?'" Finn asked.

"Yeah, this. All this," he gestured around them at the miles of empty red dunes, "us being stranded, you carrying me, the place feeling like some kind of damn oven?"

"Parnassos was worse."

"Parnassos? Never heard of it."

"Doubt you would. It's deep in the Unknown Regions."

"Oh? That so? What was it like?"

"Hot."

Poe looked at him crossly.

"Hot? That's it? C'mon, there's gotta be more to it."

Finn sighed after a bit. He didn't much see the point of holding back information. He was a traitor anyway. Besides, he did admit it helped keep his mind occupied beyond the general hopelessness of the situation.

"Parnassos used to be a mining world, settled by the Old Republic several hundred years ago."

"Then why haven't I heard of it?"

"Because of what happened there. There was… an accident. Once, it was mountainous and green with deep blue oceans. Then, a nuclear reactor went off. It devastated the planet. Scorched the earth to a deep purple, turned the mountains and spires black as obsidian glass. Made the oceans toxic and foul. Then there was the weather. One moment it could be so hot your skin would boil. The next, thunderstorms so fierce it could destroy cities. Radioactive winds that could kill you in seconds. And of course, the acid rain. It was always unpredictable, had to be prepared at all times."

"One nuclear reactor did that?"

"...I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the history of what happened there has been buried. Officially, reports suggest the Con Star Mining Corporation was there, and then they weren't. Everything else was hearsay. Mostly from my Captain."

Poe shook his head.

"No way in the galaxy **one** reactor could do that! You would need multiple thermonuclear strikes across the planet, and even then-"

"It happened, Poe. I spent most of my childhood on that planet."

"Wait, Parnassos was your home?"

"No. I was trained there."

Poe looked at him incredulously.

"Why would anybody want to train on a planet like that?"

"Why do think? If you weren't strong enough to survive on that planet, you wouldn't be strong enough for combat."

"That's fair, I suppose. Look, I'm not saying that the planet isn't like what you described but the way you're telling me is a bit far fetched… what's the unofficial record say?"

Finn didn't answer at first. He rolled it in his mind, wondering just how much more he should say. But, in the end, what was the point?

"Phasma, my Captain, believes that the planet was used for a weapons test. And when they were done, they left the planet and everybody on it to die. Covered it up, and then erased the memory."

"Okay, that makes a lot more sense. Still… I've never heard of Con Star. Curious what happened to them."

"You tell me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You serve the government that enforces the laws protecting the company and others like it."

"Uh huh, buddy. That's the Old Republic. That died almost two generations ago. No, I serve the **New** Republic."

Finn looked back at him for a moment, asking:

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes." Poe deadpanned, "Then again, I guess your superiors didn't tell you that."

"All right then, enlighten me," he shrugged. Surprisingly to Poe, his tone wasn't combative or challenging. It was more… apathetic, in a way, "Tell me how is the "New" Republic differs from the bureaucratic cesspool that was the Old Republic?"

"We do have a Senate, but it's not as powerful or as centralized as it was in the waning days of the Old Republic. Most matters of the people are handled by the individual planets and sectors, usually through their Sector Representatives."

"So you have even more self serving politicians. I fail to see the difference here."

"Well, how about the fact that they don't have unlimited terms of service, unlike the Old Republic? Everybody has two terms in office, that's it. Senators have two terms of six years, Representatives three. The Chancellor has two terms that last for four years each."

Finn rose an eyebrow, obviously intrigued, "How does this work exactly?"

"Also like the Old Republic, we have three branches of government: the Executive, Judicial and Legislative. However, they each have checks and balances over the other."

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"Well, to put it simply, if one gets a little too greedy, the other two can gang up on him. This is all set up to preserve the rights of the people."

"...'rights of the people'," Finn repeated after a moment of contemplation, "you say that as if the rights were given rather than earned."

Poe's eyes hardened and he sat straight up, ignoring the pain in his leg as he bored into Finn, "Listen, buddy. The New Republic was built on the sweat, blood, and tears of people who fought against that exact same worldview. Those brave men and women fought because they believed that everyone has the right to freedom. It is our inalienable right as living beings."

"That's a contradiction right there," he countered calmly.

"How is it a contradiction?" Poe asked.

"Because those people you spoke of fought for their 'right' to exist, therefore earning it. Something given has no value, and if something has no value, it has no right to exist. I learned that only comes from force, from violence. I was taught that is the supreme authority, and only through violence can anything exist. As you said, your New Republic was born from violence."

"By that logic the Empire did not have the right to exist since Palpatine got it through back hand means."

"No, the Empire rose as a natural successor to the Old Republic, which failed to survive the Clone Wars. Only through strength can something survive. It doesn't matter what part Palpatine played."

"Okay, then the Empire wasn't strong enough to survive against the New Republic, or even the **Alliance** for that matter, and therefore lost the right to exist."

"I can agree to that," Finn shrugged, "the Empire grew complacent, and it fell. That much is history."

Poe was somewhat flabbergasted by that answer, and as such laid back down in his stretcher. Finn took the hint and continued marching. Poe, however, wasn't entirely finished:

"You say the Empire grew complacent. What do you mean by that, exactly?"

"The Empire was the strongest in the beginning, when every single individual contributed to its success. When the whole of society contributed to the prosperity and welfare of the nation itself. However, the generation that followed grew lax and corrupt. They cared for their own personal success rather than the wellbeing of the state. This was because they were given their right to rule rather than having earned it. As such, when the Galactic Civil War commenced, they lacked the spirit to fight it properly, and as such paid the price."

"Has it ever occured to you that people in the long run don't want an oppressive system?"

"Even if it keeps them safe?" Finn more stated than replied, as though he was quoting something rather than voicing an actual opinion, "Would they have prefered life before the Empire when corporations could invade worlds like Naboo without consequence?"

"My father taught me many things. One of them was this. If you sacrifice liberty for security, you will get and deserve neither. Also, the people of Naboo have made damn sure that what happened with the Trade Federation and the Empire will never happen again."

"How so?"

Poe smirked, "Lets just say that Naboo became one of the strongest military powers in the New Republic. I may love my X-Wing, but I won't argue against the effectiveness of their N-line starfighters, or their dedicated carriers, either. They've come a long way since being at the mercy of corporations, as you say."

"In a way," Finn said after a moment, "you prove my point."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Only through strength can something survive. Clearly, to survive, Naboo became stronger through the use of force."

"That's fair," Poe nodded before countering, "but they don't use that force to subjugate people. Just to defend themselves."

"Is there a difference between the two? When does defending your people turn to defending your interests?"

"History. As the Naboo say, country and people come first before tyrants. Remember, Palpatine came from Naboo. They know that better than anybody else. But you wanna know what they have that makes them want to defend their home?" Poe asked Finn, "They got spirit. They remember the blood their ancestors shed for them so they could have the freedom to choose. So they'll defend that freedom to their last dying breath. In short, though their fathers and grandfathers earned their own right to exist, it's up to us to hold those rights. Even through violence if necessary."

"Admirable," Finn nodded simply, "but it always seems to fall apart generations later."

"Only when we forget."

* * *

Night had fallen a few hours later, and with a wary eye on the horizon, Finn agreed to stop for the night. They'd found a shallow cave hemmed in on all sides by the tons of sand. It was a lucky find because no sooner than they had, the wind picked up and the temperature dropped. Finn recognize the treachery of light gales evolving into a storm, so with haste he and Poe took cover. Snuggled inside, they were secure enough as the wind continued to grow until it became exactly as Finn predicted.

Outside, the sand storm wailed like a banshee. Whispering terrors of Jakku, bringing with it tons of scarlet sand. The result was that the entrance to their cave constantly threatened to be buried in, and Finn had to constantly dig through the layers. The effort lasted hours, and though Finn refused to show it, Poe could see the exhaustion radiating from him. Finally, the wind died down enough for him to start a small, controllable fire; more for Poe's own comfort than his own.

As the chemical induced fire crackled softly in softly purring winds, Finn removed a small ration partial from his belt and tossed it over to Poe. The stuff tasted bland, but that wasn't much of a surprise to him. Anything labelled as being healthy and nutritious rarely tasted good. Still, it was food, and he ate it down. Followed by his small water ration, and he was ready to talk again, though his throat protested the effort.

"Y'know, I'm curious about something," Poe interrupted the Troopers mental stewing, "you keep mention this idea of 'earning' and 'giving' rights. What exactly do you mean by that?"

Finn looked up at him, staring blankly back.

"You have a fondness for questions, don't you?"

Poe smirked at him roguishly, "I'm an inquisitive kind of a guy, sue me."

"I'd rather just shoot you," Finn joked dryly.

"You know, I'm not sure if I should feel threatened or pleased that you actually have a sense of humor."

Finn deadpanned him, "Humor has no place in combat."

"We're not in combat though."

"Exactly."

Poe laughed a bit at that, and Finn couldn't help but chuckle a bit too. He settled back against the stonewall, holding his helmet in both hands and watching the reflection staring back at him.

"Do you understand the difference between a citizen and a civilian?"

Poe looked at him, slightly confused.

"There isn't one, at least not from where I come from."

Finn looked at him blankly again; sighing after a moment before explaining:

"A citizen is one who has earned the right to participate in the society he has fought to defend. A civilian has not."

"Wait… you mean only soldiers get the right of citizenship?"

"No, not entirely. Service to the state is the fundamental responsibility of all those born within our space. Citizenship is earned as a result."

"So… does a janitor earn the same rights then as a Trooper?" Poe asked with a smile.

"Only if the mess is a true fight," Finn said humorously, "if nothing else, it provides purpose. Unity. All peoples working towards the same goal."

"Finn, no offense, but do you actually believe that?"

Finn looked at him blankly again, but then his eyes slid sideways to the ground, and he sighed.

"I don't know anymore."

Poe watched him for a long moment looking for something in the man's face. He didn't quite know what. After a long while, he sat up in his stretcher, sighing as he did. He'd put it off for far too long and now that they had the time…

"Finn," he began before pausing a breath, "why did you save me, exactly?"

Finn didn't answer. He just continued to look at nothing in particular on the ground, his face a grim mask. Poe waited, and nodded after a while, settling back onto the ground. Then Finn began speak, distant and morbid:

"Because I need to know why."

"Why?"

Finn sighed, and turned to face him.

"All my life, I was taught that as a soldier I was an agent of order, the very embodiment of it. I was taught that New Republic was a doomed state that went back to the old ways of doing things. That the galaxy suffered under its corruption, and that I would be the instrument to bring back the days of the Empire. Days when peace and prosperity were enforced."

Poe said nothing, only listened. And after a moment, Finn continued:

"I… I don't recall having parents. I was… orphaned. My brothers… my fellow troopers, were the only family I knew. While I was the same age as them, they looked up to me. Entrusted me to lead them, to get them through the war alive."

Poe remembered the look Finn had given him in the TIE Defender. Somehow… he knew.

"Then the attack on that village happened, and I saw what I truly was," he sighed wearily, staring down once more into his reflection, gleaming off the visor, "my men… my brothers… my entire squad…" though he fought against it, Finn's voice finally cracked, "they were killed. Killed fighting people who just wanted to be left alone. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to die. To let something come and take me. Then I ran into that broken down shack... with you… and the family."

Poe's eyes widened in realization but he still kept quiet.

"I had the opportunity. I could have killed you. You looked away from me. You looked at that family, to protect them. I let you go, but then you were captured, and that family…" his hands began to shake, Finn's emotions contorting between grief and anger, tears streaming down his cheeks, "They looked at me. They pleaded with me. Then Phasma gave the order," Finn closed his eyes and bowed his head with gritted teeth, his words coming out as a snarl, "I pulled the trigger."

Poe stared at him, his face entirely unreadable.

"It is not the first time I have killed," Finn shook his head, the helmet dropping from his shaking fingers, "it is not even the first time I have killed families. But then it had been different. On Parnassos, it was kill or be killed. The tribals of the world were trained to kill from birth," Finn's eyes opened as he stared at Poe, "just like me. Even their children were deadly killers. Mercy… mercy was not something we could afford to give."

He hung his head, his hands tightening into fists.

"But… when I looked into their eyes…" he choked up, unable to continue. Poe in turn waited. Waited until he was ready. And after taking the helmet in his hands again, once more staring down at the reflection of man he did not recognize, he spoke again:

"We were told that the New Republic was a monster. That it's people, it's armies, it's leaders were monsters. But when you did what you did…" he then looked upon Poe with a face of self-directed hatred, "I am no agent of order, no harbinger of peace and prosperity. I am the monster."

He shook his head in disgust, letting the helmet fall one last time.

"I couldn't let you die. Not like my men. Not like the people of the village. When I… when I looked into the eyes of those I've killed, and when they begged for their lives… I did nothing," he then stared back at Poe, his eyes full of conviction and purpose, "I **will not** let you die, Poe Dameron. Even if it means my own life to do it."

Poe shook his head and crawled over, ignoring the biting pain flaring up through him. Face to face with his savior, he took him by his pouldrun and shook him once.

"I don't want your life, Finn. We'll both get out of this, y'hear me? You and me."

He then sat back down, the fire showing the intensity in his eyes as he stated with an air of certitude:

"I don't care about the man you were. I only care about the man I see before me. The man who risked everything to save me. So, if you're wanting to get me out alive, then you're damn well coming with me."

Finn shook his head at him in disbelief, asking:

"Why?"

"Why?" Poe asked him back.

"Why would you give a killer that chance? Why?"

"Because my own father was an Imperial," Poe replied, staring into the fire, "he was a Stormtrooper, just like you. Fought and killed for the wrong side, just like you."

"What changed?"

"He met my mother. She was a Rebel Fighter Pilot, Green Squadron. A-Wing. One of the best," he said with an air of pride, "and when he met her during the Battle of Sullust... he was a changed man."

Finn stared at him, unsure of what to make of it. Poe continued:

"My father had a checkered past. He did things, terrible things… but I don't care. My mother taught me that it isn't about what we did **then** that matters. It's what we do **now** that does. And you… you saved me. You turned your back on everything you knew to save a complete stranger. That makes you a good man in my book."

"I'm not a good man," Finn said, closing his eyes and facing the ground before him as though it was an accusing mass, "I don't think I'll ever will be."

Poe just shook his head at him with a small smile:

"Buddy, we all have our demons, but the fact that you are showing genuine guilt over what happened back there… that tells me that you are on the road, whether you know it or not."

Finn looked at him for a long time. Looked at the man he saved, and wondered… if what he said could be true? He didn't know. He probably never would, and he might not live long enough to find out.

"Get some sleep, Poe," Finn nodded simply, "we'll move at first light. It'll be too dangerous with the storm tonight."

"Right," Poe chuckled, lying down at on stretcher, "good talk."

* * *

It finally happened at noon on the third day. Evidence of it had slowly crept into Finn's mind, small tale-tell signs here and there. Sudden rises in temperature, sudden discomforts in the armor, even the very fact that he was sweating more than he should have. However, he hadn't noticed. In the back of his mind, he cursed his weakness, his lapse of observation.

However, the long march through the desert, their water finally depleting half a day earlier despite Finn's careful rationing, and his growing exhaustion from ferrying Poe across countless miles of trackless, endless scarlet sands took a toll on his mind. Even Poe, who had rejected most of his own rations of water when he began seeing the signs of Finn weakening, was not in it entirely. His mind ached, his body pulsating with sudden cold and pain, and his own general signs of weakness. He knew signs of infection when he saw it. Finn did what he could, but he only had minimal supplies on hand.

Yet another thing that pressed against Finn's mind, distracting him. So he pushed himself harder. He had to get to a settlement, any settlement. His heart soared when out of the dunes an old Imperial-II Star Destroyer came into view. A ship like this meant scavengers. Scavengers meant civilization.

Then it happened. His back suddenly throbbed with an intense heat as white smoke petered out from the crack in his armor. After three days of hard use, the damaged power pack had finally overheated. Before Finn or Poe could do anything, it erupted. Finn was sent hurtling forward, his entire back plate exploding outward.

Finn's bodysuit absorbed most of the damage, dispersing the kinetic force. Under normal circumstances, Finn would have been able to recover within minutes with only minor injuries. He however was already exhausted and severely dehydrated. He was out before he even hit the ground; plattering against the dune like a wet fish.

"Finn!" Poe cried weakly, desperately crawling over as his mind grew faint and the world around him suddenly seemed so bright. He clung onto the Trooper, trying desperately to turn him over, but he couldn't manage it. He felt suddenly numb, his face burning and his breath becoming hard. He flopped onto the ground next to the man who had dragged him so far, the sky seeming as bright as the sun itself. Then a shadow came overhead.

A voice spoke, distant like an echo. Feebly, Poe reached out for it:

"Please… help."

And then the darkness claimed him.


	13. Chapter 10 - Nightengale

**Chapter 11 - Nightingale**

* * *

 **Jakku**

 **Anchorite Ridge**

* * *

He was dead. Poe was certain of this. After all, there was a bright light, just as the stories told. Surely then, he would be greeted by beautiful Angels and be taken to the comforting arms of equally beautiful women. Perhaps he would find his mother there, waiting with a smile.

Then he felt a sharp pain in his head, in his throat… and generally everywhere else. That wasn't right. If he was dead, then why was he in pain? A sudden fear took hold of him then. What if he wasn't where he thought he was, but somewhere else on the other side of spectrum. Surely seducing his fair share of women hadn't been enough to send him to **that** place.

Something came into his vision. Something blurry. The damn light, if it could just buzz off for a couple of seconds… it started to become clearer. His mind began playing tricks on him. The figure had horns, then wings, then… hair.

He blinked a few times, letting the image come into focus. He groaned softly, his voice sounding chapped.

"Who are you?" he asked. A feminine voice, slightly gruff but with all the right textures of the opposite sex answered:

"My name is Rey."

He opened his eyes, and he smiled with all the charm he could manage.

"I take it back. I am in Heaven."

Before him was indeed a woman. A very fair one, to be sure. A heart shaped face with tanned skin, though not around the eyes where her pale skin remained: a trademark goggles tan… which he strangely found attractive. A few slight scars lined her high cheekbones, white against the tan. Her hair was chestnut brown, bound in a long braid that ran over her shoulders. It was a bit messy, strands of it loose against her forehead and tangled over her ears, but it generally got the job done.

"If you consider Jakku to be Heaven," she smiled with a flash of her hazel eyes, "then you have very low standards."

"Oh," Poe's smile deepened, "in my experience, you take what you can get."

"A real charmer," she chuckled softly as she turned away from him, doing something he couldn't quite see. He took a moment to look around, noticing the steel walls and carapace superstructure.

"Where am I exactly?"

"Safe," she replied without turning, "for now."

"Are you being intentionally vague?"

She turned around and shot him a careful glance.

"Possibly."

"Heh," Poe sighed as he laid down on his cot, "not the first time I've woken up in a strange place with a strange woman."

"I could certainly say the same for you."

He looked around again, seeing the small creature comforts dotting the large expanse. Most prominent however were parts. Machining parts, starcraft parts, engines and exhausts. A great many of lay on a long work bench were a number of power tools were tucked away safely in leather jerkins and safety catches.

"Are you a mechanic of some kind?" he asked.

"Ah, observant, are we? I'll add that to the rest of your rather positive traits."

He then realized he was undressed. His flight suit was gone, and he was wearing a medical gown. His leg was bound in a kind of splint, bags of blue viscous fluid strapped to it. A sudden feeling of vulnerability washed over Poe, but he subverted it and grinned slyly.

"Was there anything you particularly liked, by chance?"

Rey glanced at him, smiling at him dismissively.

"You can turn off the charm. I'm immune."

"Very well," his face grew hard and serious, "where am I, exactly? How long have I been here? Where's Finn?"

"I'm not going to say," she turned around, her arms crossed over and for the first time, he got a look at what she was wearing. They were tan robes, outlining trousers tucked into working boots, the arms exposed at the shoulders with the rest covered over by cloth sleeves. Her body was slim, but the muscles in her arms looked honed and her eyes had the glint of someone who knew how to fight. Strangely, it just made her more attractive to him.

"And why's that?" he shot back, rising on his elbows.

"Well, I don't know you," she deadpanned with raised eyebrow, "and I don't trust what I don't know."

"Well, why don't you come over here," he smiled slightly, "and get to know me?"

She tutted him, shaking her head:

"Oh, I don't think so," she smiled slyly at him, "as I said, your charm is wasted on me."

"Give me some credit. I'm crippled here."

"Yes, you are," she nodded, "I was afraid you were going to lose that leg."

"Oh? So, it was worse than I thought. I'm guessing it was you who found us?"

"No it was the other person staying here," she deadpanned.

"You just like playing hard to get, don't you?"

She didn't answer, and he sighed.

"What do you want?"

"Your attention," she replied, "I have a few questions for you. If you don't answer them correctly, well…" she produced a remote which was attached by some sort of cabling which in turn ran to his… leg, "I'm not sure what would get you first. The desert or the infection. The choice is yours, but if I were you, I wouldn't try to test my patience."

Poe looked at her, his eyes slightly wide:

"You are one strange lady, y'know that?"

"So everyone keeps saying. Oh, and I'll know if you're lying."

"How?" he asked incredulously, "You got some kinda lie detector lying about?"

"Yes," she smiled, "me. Shall we begin?"

He sighed, and nodded.

"Who are you?"

"Kes," Poe lied, "Kes Bey."

"You're lying."

"No I'm not!"

She pressed the button, and the blue fluid started to drain from the pouches attached to his leg. A burning pain took hold him then, and he screamed.

"Tell me the truth."

"I AM TELLING YOU THE TRUTH!" he screamed as he clutched at his knee.

"No, you're not. Why are you lying?"

"Because…" he gasped, "people are looking for me!"

She pressed the button again, and the fluid began to seep back into the pouches. The pain eased as a cooling sensation washed over him. He sighed in relief and laid back down on his cot.

"Why are they looking for you?" she asked.

"Because I stumbled into something I shouldn't have. Now they're trying to kill me."

"What sort of people are they?"

"Dangerous people."

"Do you think I'm one of these dangerous people?"

Poe looked at her, shaking his head softly.

"No… but I don't know who you are, or if I should actually trust you."

Her face softened, and she put the remote down on the bench behind her.

"What's your name?" she asked again. Poe sighed, and answered truthfully.

"Poe. My name is Poe Dameron."

She smiled at him. It was an unreadable smile, her emotions shrouded. As she turned and began walking towards something, he asked in panic:

"Hey! Where you going? Why are you smiling?"

"Someone wants to see you."

She then opened a hatch, and he expected to see Stormtroopers storming in. Instead, it was the last thing he ever expected.

"BUDDY!" he cried, and out of the desert came screaming BB-8. He tackled into Poe, his arms holding him in an embrace as he danced around his human partner. A babble of incomprehensible binary roared from the droid as he asked Poe a million questions. Poe did the same, asking things along the lines of where he'd been and if he was alright.

"Seriously man," Poe sighed as he held BB-8 at arms length, "I did not expect to see you again… um, is it safe?" he asked with a whisper. BB-8 merely nodded. The pair of them then heard Rey chuckling at them.

 _What are you laughing at?_ BB-8 asked. Rey stifled a laugh with her hand, but couldn't hold herself back. She even cried a little.

"Oh I'm sorry. I just think this is adorable."

"Um, thanks. Hey wait a minute!" he pushed BB-8 for a moment as he glared at her on raised elbows, "If you had BB-8 all this time, then why'd you do this whole song and dance and torturing thing?"

"I had to be sure it was really **you** , Poe, and not some actor playing the role."

"Why? You got experience with that?"

He didn't get a response. Save a for a look he didn't quite understand, but he let the matter drop as BB-8 came in to hug him again.

* * *

It turned out they were in an AT-AT. Finn almost immediately identified it when he woke sometime later.

"Poe?!" he called out, looking around to see where the man he had spent the past half week dragging through the desert had gotten to. His eyes passed over a figure dressed in the garb of the Tusken Raiders of Tatooine, which put Finn on high alert. "Who are you?" Finn growled, "what have you done to Poe?"

The figure tilted their head, "He's safe," a woman's voice answered, "I'm not so sure about you, though."

Finn narrowed his eyes, "What medication am I on? What is a Tusken doing on Jakku? Am I delirious?"

"You don't sound it!" the 'Tusken' laughed, and removed her mask, "I'm just messing with you. I use this to keep the sun off me. And to answer your first question: a filtered line bacta I mixed in with your water supply, plus one or two pain suppressants, just to be sure."

"Just to be sure? I don't have spinal damage, do I?"

She smiled, "I don't usually believe in luck, but you seem to have it like an Idiot's Array."

Finn stared at her for a moment, looking her up and down before returning to her face… and to her hair. It was… she, was different. All the women he had known had all been more like men than women. Their hair shaven, bodies lined with muscle. There hadn't been much in the way of actual feminality, and in truth, command had viewed them exactly the same as their male counterparts: instruments of war. This woman was different, and though he didn't show it, she make him feel uncomfortable.

In a way, she reminded him of the stories he'd heard about from Colonies. Of beautiful women meant for soldiers of the First Order, and to bear the next generation of soldiers. Finn wondered if that was where he would've been sent if things hadn't turned out the way they did… but he quickly let the matter drop.

"Did you pull us out of the desert?" he asked her bluntly, his eyes working around the room looking for… something.

"Mmm hmm," she nodded simply.

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she shot back, matching his tone, "Because you're a Stormtrooper?"

"Why are you living alone?"

"What gives you that impression?"

"This cot is uncomfortable," he stated, "I doubt you would sleep on it."

"Well aren't you perceptive." she remarked humorously.

"The Captain demanded the best from us, and being perceptive meant the difference between life and death on Parnassos."

The woman tilted her head and rose an eyebrow, "Is that some kind of death world?"

Finn nodded, "That certainly fits it. Where's Poe?"

"Did he charm you, too?" She asked him with a laugh. Finn however didn't laugh and looked at her slightly bewildered. Rey simply shrugged as she headed out the drap covered entrance, "He's outside. I'll check on him."

"What an unusual woman," Finn sighed as he tried to sit up. His back screamed at him and he fell back to the bed, deciding that he would give himself a little bit more recovery before he attempted that again. He panted, fighting to control his breath and mentally fighting back the pain until it became a tolerable throb. As he laid there, he began taking stock of the situation. He was alive, and so was apparently Poe.

What confused him however was the woman. She knew he was a Stormtrooper. In any given situation, that was a death sentence. And yet, he was alive. Why?

He looked around more, noticing the sparse creature comforts and furniture around the compartment. This woman had only what she needed, telling him that she was poor as dirt or was a pragmatist. He doubted the former as the woman seemed well educated. Though that could mean she'd lost everything if she was here on the edge of known space. Maybe she did. Maybe she didn't want to be found.

Still, his first priority at the moment was he need to find his weapons. Even if she was taking care of them and the calculated risk she posed to him was minimal, he didn't know how long **that** was going to last. He thought for a moment, noting that his gear had been magnetically strapped to either of thighs. So, where was his armor? He looked around again, and decided in that moment that safety was more important than comfort.

Slowly, he turned to his side, and began to rise. He bore the pain, judging the bluntness of it to be little more than muscle sores. If it had been sharp, it would've been a tear or worse. But if it was worse, he wouldn't have been able to move in the first place. Besides her earlier statement, his head and neck hadn't been given special attention, which added to his point.

Carefully, he stabilized himself, holding the IV bags attached by his wrist to his chest as he looked around again. As he looked, he began identifying everything of note. Exits, weapons, hard surfaces he could use as cover. Then he saw something: a box with a wool cover. He looked around, and noticed that nothing else was like that, so he stealthy made his over to it.

He took every step carefully, avoiding things that he knew would make noise, though the sand helped greatly in muffling his approach. He pulled the box open, and there it was: his armor. He pulled the pieces out one by one before eventually coming across the back plate. A giant outward hole had expanded from its center, and he instinctively felt for his spine. He felt an odd sense in pride by the fact that even an internal explosion hadn't been enough to kill him.

Musing aside, he quickly found the thighs…

"Don't bother. They're not there."

He spun around, his body falling into a fighting stance. The woman stood at the doorway with her arms crossed, watching him.

"What did you do with them?" he growled at her, his impressive physical bulk making him fairly intimidating to look at, "Speak!"

When she didn't, he prepared himself for the possibility of pouncing her. His muscles tensed despite the sudden pain he was feeling. In reality, it helped. It made him all the more willing to fight.

"Don't," and in that moment, she drew his SE-44c sidearm and held him at blaster-point. Finn's eyes narrowed as he relaxed a bit, but his intensity only grew.

"You know how to use that?" he challenged.

"Do you really want to test me?"

"Why am **I** alive?" he snarled, "Why'd you save **me**?"

"You? You're asking why I saved **you**?"

"Drop the act. You know what I am. You know where I come from and you know what I can do."

"Yes, I do."

"Why'd you save me, then?"

She looked at him for a moment, pondering. Then she chuckled softly, and lowered the blaster.

"Would you believe me if I said just because?"

Finn's expression hardened, "Am I supposed to believe you did it out of the kindness of your heart?"

"I dunno," she shrugged, "is that so hard to believe?"

"In my experience, there's no such thing as good intentions."

"Oh, so everyone's got an angle, huh?"

"Yes. They do."

"Well… I don't."

Finn tilted his head in bewilderment, and she sighed, shaking her head as she rubbed the back of her head.

"Look," she began, stepping closer to Finn, "if I wanted to kill you, I would've just left you out in the desert to die. You're safe here."

"How do you know?"

"Because no one knows I'm here. I've made sure of that."

Finn nodded in approval. She was truly a pragmatist, and he respected that. Then she stepped closer again, and he tensed slightly, but relaxed when she held up a hand.

"Easy," she soothed, "I'm gonna do something my gut's telling me not to."

She held out the blaster, barrel pointing her way. Finn looked at her suspiciously, and slowly took it, his finger off the trigger and the barrel pointed down at the floor. She then stepped back, and smiled slightly.

"Just don't shoot me in the back, please? Your friend's outside."

And with that, she was out the door. Finn watched her go, noting her impressive physique as he did. He admitted to himself that in his presumably weakened state, she might've actually been able to take him, and a part of him was glad that it didn't go that way. That did make him wonder how she kept in shape, but he let the matter drop. He looked at the door, and down at his weapon.

He sighed, and put it away. Right now, he couldn't afford to put himself into an even worse position than he already was. With that, he went out the door; his hand shielding his eyes from the blaring sun above.

"Finn!" he heard Poe's voice ahead, "Good to see you awake!"

His vision cleared, and Poe was standing! Actually standing. Then he saw the bacta bags strapped to his leg.

"Where'd you get those? Wait, how long have we've been out?"

"Traded for them," the woman answered, "well, technically it was part of a little reward package I got for opening the access routes to a certain Star Destroyer. It's where I met this little pyro-maniac!" she laughed as she patted the droid everyone seemed to be looking for, "and for about a week. Well, a little less, but yeah about a week."

"Huh."

The pair of them being rescued by a friendly, yet dangerous woman who had Poe's droid. He didn't know if it was all coincidence… or something else. Speaking of which, said droid was now circling him, babbling out questions he couldn't understand before it came face to face with him, staring him down with its beady little eye.

"Don't worry about him, BB-8," Poe chuckled softly, "he's a bit rough around the edges, but he's a good guy! Wouldn't be here without him."

"Thanks," was all Finn had to say to that before BB-8 jutted one of his mechanical claws out, pointed up to its eye and then jutted it right into Finn's chest.

"I don't blame you," Finn shrugged, "I'd do the same. Actually, I'd just shoot you and be done with it."

BB-8 scoffed at him, and took off to go do… something else. Poe and Rey were holding down long metal pipes, one ten feet long and another pair twenty to thirty, while BB-8 was welding them into place.

"What are you doing anyway?"

The sudden crack of lightning brought his eyes skyward, where stormclouds were fast approaching. He understood.

"Raincatchers."

"Mmm hmm," Rey nodded, "that's the thing about deserts. It does rain, and often. Only problem is that it evaporates before it hits the ground."

"So, put the catcher up higher before it does," he nodded his approval, remembering the Navѐ tribes of Parnassos, distinctive with their white body paint and attachment for fast motorized vehicles and flamethrowers, erected whole cities worth of catchers which were in turn connected to carefully maintained filter systems. More than once Finn and his men would infiltrate these facilities and destroy them, forcing the tribes from their mountain fortresses to engage their opponents in the open. Though they fought with fervor and fanaticism, they were always hopelessly outmatched in weapons technology.

"Alright, Poe? Grab that end and lift up. We'll put it in the post holes-"

"Allow me," and Finn quickly scurried past Poe to take his place.

"Hey!" but Finn would have none of it. He positioned his body to put the weight of the effort on his biceps and shoulders rather than his back. When he was ready, he nodded at Rey, and the pair of them lifted the platform up and dragged into position where the heavy stones there would keep it in place.

"Alright, BB! Up to you now!"

With that, BB-8 floated over a rig up net made up of patch together pieces of fabric, which in turn was ringed by steel braces which then came together like an umbrella. Eight separate reins where connected at these points, and BB-8 took them in his mechanical arms. He ascended, taking the material up with him. Though he wobbled, he was careful enough to give himself enough purchase, and with an effort, he hooked it onto the platform and the center rod went through its porthole.

In minutes, the rain came. All around them, they could only feel the faintest of moisture, but above, the platform began to fill.

"Won't last long," Rey sighed, "maybe a couple of minutes, ten at the most. But still-"

"Water is water," Finn finished, and Rey nodded, smiling.

"You would've done well on Tatooine."

"You would've done well on Parnassos."

"Well how about we don't end up on a desert planet for a change?" Poe called out to them, "I could go for a beach planet!"

"Is that actually for the weather..." Rey started.

"Or the women?" Finn finished.

"How about both?"

And at this, Finn shook his head and Rey burst out laughing.

"Well, we haven't been properly introduced yet," Rey smiled at him, and offered her hand, "I'm Rey."

Finn looked at her for a long moment, but sigh and took it, noting the strength in the grip.

"Poe calls me Finn, so you can call me that, too."

"Okay Finn. Good to meet you."

"Hey, look at that!" Poe laughed as he hobbled over, embracing them both with open arms, "We're getting along so well! I wager this is the start of a beautiful friendship!"

"Well," Rey chuckled back, "I dunno know about that-"

"Ah, perish the thought! So, what's next?"

Rey looked skyward, the clouds slowly marching across mid afternoon like an advancing army.

"Well, inside for now. This storm's gonna last a while. We'll come out and check it once it's night."

Finn frowned momentarily before suppressing the look. His questions could wait until then.

* * *

The fire crackled in the moonlight, and Poe was laughing harder than he'd ever before.

"You were a damsel in distress!?"

BB-8 just seemed to sulk further and further into the darkness of the background. Poe just couldn't stop laughing and Finn quickly realized it was a release.

"Well, give him some credit, flyboy," Rey smirked across at him, pointing to himself, "he happened to save **this** damsel in distress!"

"Yeah, and that's like an Ewok saving a Gungan-Ow!" Poe messaged his shoulder as Rey glared at him.

"That's an unfair comparison, and you know it. Besides, you haven't had an Ewok or a Gungan try to kill you!"

"Actually, I have!" Poe scoffed at her, "Twice! The little teddy bears tried to cook me over a fire while the fishmen danced to my doom!"

"Vee-beet-boob!" BB-8 cursed at him. Poe just shrugged.

"Okay, fine. So I did happen to crash their party because of that one lady… but it wasn't on purpose!"

"Vee-deep-boo," BB-8 shook his head at him and Rey sniggered at him.

"Hey! That's not fair!" Poe growled, and Finn finally posed the obvious question bluntly. Rey provided the answer.

"Apparently, he wandered in half-naked, completely drunk, calling the Ewoks in question 'little teddies' and he tried to punt one!"

Poe buried his face in his hands, moaning, "We agreed never to talk about this!"

 _Hey, you don't get to call me Damsel in Distress and expect to get away with it,_ BB-8 laughed at him.

"He's got a point, you know," Rey smirked at his displeasure, and Poe narrowed his eyes at her.

"Oh excuse me, Ms. Snippy-Tusken-Lady, but you made a little mistranslation there. I wasn't drunk! I was drugged!"

"Oh…" Rey feigned mock realization sarcastically, "and that's make it better, huh?"

"I… um, well… Finn, back me up here!"

"Hey, don't drag me into this."

"Buddy, you've been dragging me for days! It's only fair!"

"Very well…" then he cracked an artic smile, "as soon as I receive a substantial injury, I'll ensure that you'll need to drag me everywhere I please. That sound fair?"

"No!" Poe squealed as his face grew redder and redder amidst all the mocking laughter. He jutted a finger at his droid, "You did this! You turned them against me!"

 _You've done that yourself!_

"Why you-!" and sand was now being flung at floating ball of mischief. Rey laughed and laughed, but Poe wasn't quite finished yet, "Hey, don't think I've forgotten about you!"

"Hey!" Rey squeaked in dismay, "Don't do that! This stuff gets everywhere!"

"Too bad!" and now a war of sand was being waged! Neither side gave quarter, and neither side was spared their expense of crimson sand. And by the end of it, Finn was just struggling to keep their fire going.

"Children," he shook his head, "I'm surrounded by children."

"Who you calling kid?" and now Rey had drawn in a third party to their desert warfare. BB-8 just 'stood' in the background, laughing maniacally in mid-air at the mischief he had caused.

"That's it," and Finn stormed off up the hill.

"Aw, what's the matter?" Poe called after him, laughing all the while, "Can't shove when push comes?!"

"Um, Poe?" Rey suddenly rose to his feet, "I don't think he's running away."

"Oh please! What is he gonna do? Go get a bucket and- oh carabast!"

And like that, the pair were submerged as an avalanche attacked them from up the hill. Buried in sand, they crawled out the mire of their defeat to find Finn sitting there cross legged, BB-8 starting a new fire. He looked at them, and smiled slightly.

"I win."

Rey looked at Poe and smiled, "I like him. Now get me out of here!"

* * *

"Why do you think she saved us?"

"Huh?" Poe had been looking up at the stars. It had been a long time since he had a clear overcast with most of the planets blotting them out with light pollution, "oh. I dunno."

"How much did you tell her?"

"Enough. Who I am, who you are, and why we're in this mess."

"I don't suppose you-"

"No," he shook his head, "only me, you, and BB-8 know about that."

"Good."

Finn looked out the expanse of desert stretching for miles, the moon casted full overhead.

"Tomorrow… we need to get move on."

"You kiddin'?"

"Shh," Finn whispered, looking over at Rey who was doing something in the AT-AT, which turned out to have been half buried in the sand. Satisfied, he turned back to Poe, "we can't stay here. The longer we do, the more danger we're in."

"Buddy, I can barely stand!" Poe urged, his tone lowered sufficiently, "And you? You couldn't hack ten miles out there the way you are."

"Yes, I can," Finn growled, but Poe shook his head.

"No, you can't. You can put on a show all you like, but we'll die out there if we leave now!"

"We'll die if we stay."

"Really? Buddy, think about it. She's had the chance to turn us in long before now. And on top of that, BB-8 trusts her."

"You're going to trust a stranger all because of a droid's judgement?"

He was answered with a jab to the arm and Poe jutted a finger in his face.

"Don't you dare. Me and BB-8 been through a hellova lot together, and normally thems be fightin' words. But I owe you, so I'm gonna let it slide."

"You act like that droid's alive."

"He is," Poe growled, "and I don't wanna hear another word about it."

"Poe… I don't trust this woman."

"I get that. I do. But we ain't got a choice in the matter. We need to rest. Take a moment, plan! We still gotta get off this planet, and that means we need a ship! Now I don't know about you, but I sure as heck don't know who or where to get one on this blasted junk heap."

"Still…" he looked back at her, who herself was bent over in the doorway, "this woman makes me uneasy."

"Oh?" Poe grinned slyly, "Well, what kind of uneasy is that?"

"Pardon?"

"Well, I ain't gonna lie. Take away all the grime and machine oil, and she's one hellova good looking woman."

"That's... That's not it," Finn replied, slightly flustered.

"C'mon, ain't no shame in that! I saw the way you been looking at her. 'Sides, who am I gonna tell?"

"Um…" Finn just shook his head, "that's… I mean, you're clearly attracted to her."

"'Course I am! I am attracted to a great many of the finer side of the opposite sex. I mean, I can sit here all day talking about the finest ladies I've been with. Hell, I can probably write a book about my exploits!"

"Oh really?"

They both turned around to see Rey standing behind them, a sly smile stretching wide on her face, steaming cases of something balanced on either hand. Poe smiled winningly at her.

"Trust me, darling. I have loved enough for a thousand men! Probably more!"

"With that bravado, I don't doubt it," Rey smirked as she handed them each of a case of quick-meal before sitting across from them.

"Bravado?" Poe smirked, "Well, what makes you think it's all bravado, huh?"

"Oh, I think you've got everything good where it counts," that earned a bewildered look from Finn, to which Poe shrugged, "but with exploits like that, I could imagine all the jealous suitors… and their equally jealous husbands looking to hang you up and… well, you boys have an imagination for that."

"What makes you think I've got jealous husbands on my tail?"

"You look the type."

"And what type is that?"

"Your typical flyboy," she said matter-of-factly, "all charm, all adventure, all very dashing. I'd imagine all sort of women would want you to take them by the arm. And probably more, in your case."

"Darling, I have a rule against sleeping with married women."

"But only if you know they're married."

"Did BB-8 tell you that?"

"No, and thank you," she said as the thing of interest came in to hand her a quick-meal, "I just know the type."

"You're speaking from experience," Finn noted. She laughed.

"Believe me, I practically grew up with flyboys! All the same, really. Daring, dashing… of course, they often dive head first into danger. But hey, they're never boring."

"Charged as guilty," Poe shrugged, "we pilots practically wear bodacious like we wear our flight jackets."

"Like I said," she chuckled, "never boring."

"So how does someone like you end up in a place like this, then?" Finn asked, and she shrugged.

"Oh you know, family trouble and the like."

"You'd come to a place like this for 'family troubles'?"

"Well, why else would I be here?"

"Because you're hiding."

She looked at him blankly.

"So what if I am?"

"What are you hiding from?"

"Finn, c'mon! This ain't Twenty Questions! Look, I'm hungry. So let's just dig into… whatever this is, okay?"

However, just as he was about to, the smell immediately put him off.

"What is this anyway?"

"Nutritious," Rey replied, putting a spoon into the yellow and white goob, "dig in and-"

"What the-" Poe said suddenly.

"What?" she looked up, and Finn was devouring the stuff! A bite was replaced with another, and in seconds, he was halfway done.

"Hey, slow down!" Poe gasped, "You're gonna choke on the stuff!"

"Sorry," he replied, slowing a moment, "haven't had anything tastier than field rations in a very long while."

Rey burst out laughing, almost dropping her case into the fire. Then she saw Finn was completely straight face.

"Stars… you're serious."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You frickin' kidding me with that?" Poe scoffed, "This stuff? Please. You haven't had real food until you tried one of Antilles' pot pies! Made with real Rancor!"

"Antilles?" Rey asked, "As in Wedge Antilles, the flight instructor?"

"Yes…" Poe replied suspiciously, "how do you know Old Man Antilles?"

"I grew up on Yavin. My dad knew him."

"Huh. That's funny. I grew up on Yavin, too. Never seen you there, before."

"Oh? Heh, well that's funny. After all, it's like we lived on a planet sized moon," she deadpanned.

Poe and Finn traded looks with each other.

"Point taken," Poe replied, sounding unconvinced.

"Well look, we're leaving in the next few days. Do you know where the nearest space port is?" Finn asked.

Rey grinned, "You're in luck. I have a ship."

"Great," he replied, "where is it?"

"Well, not here. It's back at Niima Outpost," she then shot a sudden glare at them, "under lock and key, meaning it's not going anywhere without **me**."

"Hey, who said anything about you not going with us?" Poe asked with an honest smile. She however looked them hard in the eyes, and shook her head.

"You want to know why I saved you, is that it?"

"That would be a start," Finn replied.

"Because it's time for me to get off this planet, and you two… ahem, you **three** are my ticket out of here."

"So, you're intentions weren't benevolent after all," Finn remarked coldly, crossing his arms as he did, "just like I thought."

"What is that suppose to mean?"

"What are you really after, Rey? What's your angle here?"

"Finn…"

"I'm done being lied to."

She glared at Finn for a long moment before she growled, "I didn't lie, buckethead," stormed off back to her shelter.

"What was that?" Poe asked, annoyance stretched across his face.

"Poe, my mission is to get you off this planet. I can't do that if I keep checking my six for a complete stranger I know nothing about."

"Well, you could've worded it better. And besides, we ain't going anywhere without her."

"Why not?"

"Cause I think her ship's broke. BB-8 told me she went into that Star Destroyer to get her hands on sections of its hyperdrive before anybody else could scrap it."

"So you're saying… she's been stranded here."

"Yeah," Poe deadpanned, his voice escalating into a yell, "I do. And I think you should go apologize to our host who also happens to be the lady who frickin' saved our butts back there!"

And with that, he too rose to his feet and left the Stormtrooper alone with his thoughts. He sighed, wrapping his hands around his head. He stared out into the shiftless, endless deserts, and whispered to himself:

"I don't know what to do."


	14. Chapter 11 - Good Second Impressions

**Chapter 12 - Good Second Impressions**

* * *

 **Jakku**

 **Anchorite Ridge**

* * *

Rey had left at first light while her two guests were still fast asleep, or at least what she presumed was sleep for them. Rey wasn't much of a sleeper nowadays, often finding herself waking up at odd hours and having to work herself back to slumper. Many times over, she would wake to find herself slump over her workbench; a clatter of power tools and grease oil splatter over her. She wasn't entirely sure what woke her, as it was something… different, each time around. It was always a dream, yes, but a different dream; sometimes of happier, joyful times that turned to dust when she tried to hold onto it, or something… something she fought hard to forget, to push away to the back of her mind.

Fortunately, it wasn't a dream that woke her in early hours of the morning. It had been snoring. Finn hadn't come inside after the night before, prefering to reluctantly slump to sleep against the armored bulkhead of the AT-AT. It'd been especially cold tonight, but Finn seemed to just ignore the cold. Granted, he was curled up into something of a ball. The image had almost made her laugh, but it just as quickly choked in her mouth.

For a long several moments, she watched the sleeping trooper. She felt something of a sharp pang of guilt run through her. Yes, they'd gotten off on the wrong foot, and yes the man hadn't been exactly the most gracious of guests… but he wasn't wrong for doing so. She sighed. She wanted to explain the situation, wanted to tell more than just half truths and vague answers… but was it wise for her to do so? Yes, Poe was a New Republic flyboy, and one that she knew from reputation. But what about Finn?

She shook her head. She'd been alone for so many years now. Alone, yes, but alive. That much her instinct told her, and that same instinct had been the thing she'd trusted for so long. But was she wrong? Was she right to judge him as such? Had he not done enough by his actions before?

If her father had been here, he probably would've given his aged old wisdom of judging one by actions, not affiliation. By looking at them in the here and now, rather than in the past. Of course, her mother might have countered with some witty remark, probably something about giving a man cred and watching what he would do with it. The memory of her, and of her father, made her smile. And just quickly, it collapsed into a silent, momentary sob.

She breathed in hard after a while, wiping away her eyes which had stained with the motor oil and sand over her cheeks. As she wiped them away with a towel, she eventually shrugged and grabbed a thick woolen blanket. Silent as the shifting sands, she wrapped it around the trooper's body, his skin cold to the touch. Immediately, he curled up with it, and he muttered:

"Thanks, Slip…. tell Nines to keep it down..."

Then he nodded off again. It was at that moment that Rey saw the stains running down the sides of his face. It struck a chord with her. She blinked softly, her skin suddenly feeling cold. She stared at him for a long moment, unsure of what to think, or even what to do. She sat with him for an unstretched amount of time, just watching him softly muse in the slumber of the night. He was muttering something, his lips moving in some silent conversation, his head jerking slightly and his arm started to shake.

His breath paced suddenly, become fast and rhythmic until it turned into a pant.

"No…" she heard him mutter, "no… no, please. No…"

Her hand slipped into his, the cold biting her skin. It had been utterly instinctual, and she cursed to herself if he might wake. But he didn't. His breath slowed, his body slackened, and his grip on her hand tightened. And so she sat with him, eventually her head resting against his shoulder. She didn't know how long it was she sat there under the moon and under the stars. She didn't even realize that she was weeping, the long cold stretches running down her face and soaking into her clothes. She didn't notice, all her focus instead on the soft breathing filling her ears, and her eyes watching the slow ascent of the sun over the horizon; its subtle rise marked in bloody tones spread across the canvas of the sky.

It was at this moment when the gold perked the crimson to mingle with the blue and orange that she felt the trooper stifle and shuffle. She put her hand against his chest, feeling the drowsiness wearing, but entrenched still. She slowly shoulder his mass onto her and brought him inside until she settled him into his bunk. Amazingly, he continued to sleep despite it all, and she softly smiled. She watched him sleep for a few more moments until she sighed, and went to go and grab her bag.

BB-8 chirped softly. He'd stood guard over Poe's bed for the duration and he casted a curious look at her.

"Don't worry, little one," she whispered with a smile, "just going out. Got things to do, and things to get. Probably in that order, too. I dunno. Mind watching the house for a bit?"

If BB-8 could grin, he would've. Instead, he he drew out his plasma torch and performed a mock salute with it.

"Heh," she chuckled, "you are such a clown. You've even got the right colors."

 _And proud,_ the droid snickered at her, _at least I ain't some kinda house wife or the family dog._

"Oh please. You're both."

 _How the blazes am I both?_

"Because you're both cute and a genuine damsel in distress, you floating beach ball."

BB-8 jutted the torch her way, growling:

 _You get on and git, lady, before I decide to give you a nice smoke bath!_

"Ooh, scary!" she grinned mockingly, waving her hand at him as she exited stage right. And with that, she mounted her old and venerable 74-z Speeder Bike and disappeared into the desert. An hour later, she closed within sight of Niima Outpost. Perched along the jutting cliffs overlooking the one time watering hole now minor spaceport, Rey watched the circulating stream of ships making landfall or taking off. Namely, the obviously military grade gunship touching down on the outskirts of town, it's gunmetal gray hull a sore sight in the crimson desert.

She frowned at the sight, especially when it deposited a full squad of white clad Stormtroopers headed by an officer dressed in gray and white fatigues. They were quickly met by the Niima militia, and the obvious exchange of questions such as "who are you" and "what do you want in this in banthaheap?" Indeed, Rey had a question of her own. How much was her employers confidentiality, and more importantly silence, worth?

In addition to her other reasons being here, that particular one found itself at the top of her list. She quickly wrapped her shemagh tightly around her face and finished her typical appearance with her reflective black goggles she'd fashioned from the visor of an old Imperial Stormtrooper helmet. A few minutes later, and she hid her 74-z in her usual hiding spot and walked the rest of the way into town.

"Home sweet home," Rey muttered to herself. Indeed, 'home', much like the rest of planet, was made out of cobbled together starships piece together with insta-homes and other scrap built shacks. Even the gateway itself was merely the red bumper piece off of some discarded Dreadnought. Still, life here had a charm to it, as it did in most backwaters away from what constituted civilized.

Dozens of workshops and traders, bazaar masters and con artists milled about the streets, boasting promising deals and luxury goods to the crowds of motley mixed species customers lining the sand whipped streets. The air filled the smell of oil, smoke and even the aroma of food that made Rey's mouth water a bit. However, what she was paying attention to primarily was gossip. Word was already spreading of the military transport that touched down on the outskirts of town, and half a dozen theories were already popping up.

As Rey marched determined and sporting a foul mood to her stride, she listened and analysed what she heard and what she could pick out. Fortunately, that much was easier with people generally staying out of her way and letting her pass uninhibited.

"Oy! Rey!" she heard the familiar voice of Jassus Joe, an Ithorian descended from a long line of other Joe's who all could boast having been one profession or another. At least this one had something of sense of humor considering his profession was selling specially made Snow Cones on a desert planet, "How you been, lass?"

She chuckled to herself as she turned over to him with her hands on her hips.

"Whachya want, Joe?"

"Wha'? Sayin' hi to a gal like you ain't reason 'nough for ya?"

"Joe, your charm is so thick I could butter toast with it. What do you want?"

"My machine's broke."

"Again!?" she exclaimed with mock frustration, "I just fix that thing a week ago!"

"Yeah well, apparently the life expectancy of my marvellous wonder's dropped to just about that," the Ithorian shrugged with what counted as a smile, "can ya help old Joe?"

"What's in it for me?" Rey asked, crossing her arms very business like.

"Free cones for the day."

"More."

"Um, till Friday?"

"More."

"The week?"

"You can't afford the week."

"Wha'? No, of course I can handle a week! I mean… surely, my machine's not worth that much?"

A broad smile crossed Rey's face.

"Tell you what, I'll take three days worth if you give me something else."

"Oh?"

"What do you know about the Stormtroopers outside?"

"Well, my cousin Joeb Joe tells me there was a patrol over at Geeza. My other cousin Jeese Joe also tells me that there was also one over by the trading spot at the Graveyard. And my second cousin Jeffie says-"

"Joe, how many cousins do you have?"

"How many do you need?"

She shook her head with a laugh, and got to work on the ice machine, opening up the panels to get a blow of smoke in her masked face.

"So, there are Bucketheads all over the place, eh?"

"So my cousins say."

"Well, does your multitudinous army of other Joe's tell you why they're here on Jakku?"

"Rumor is that they're looking for something."

"Something?" Rey asked, "Joe, if you're holding out on me, you can kiss your fabulous snow machine goodbye."

"No no no, please don't. The other Joe's will laugh at me silly if I fail me business prospects."

"Joe, you're trying to sell Snow Cones on a desert planet where temperatures routinely rise to a hundred and twenty degrees on a good day. Your business venture was dead the moment you came up with the laser brained idea."

"Lass, that's the point. A hundred and twenty? Who wouldn't want to sate their thirst on this dust heap oven of a planet, eh?"

"Even though you get more dehydrated eating the stuff?"

"Aye, an' that's where my other scheme comes into play!"

"Oh stars, Joe. What have you come up with now?"

"Well, I got a line on my cousin Jackus Joe! He's coming to fix me a nice line on ice cold tea supplements! Buy a cone and buy a drink! All here at Joe's Parlor! Sate ye thirst in the hundred and twenty degrees weather."

"Splendid. Now, what exactly are the Stormtroopers looking for?"

The answer was exactly what she was expecting and that was what troubled her. As Joe bid her a happy farewell and promises of the astonishing Snow Cones he'd synthesized, Rey took off at a half trot towards the the main market of town. She turned a corner and came face to face with the very same officer she'd seen outside of town. The man was younger than she would've expected, his face belonging to a boy but the eyes hard as a man. He looked her up and down and snorted.

"Out of the way, scavenger scum," and with that brushed past her, flanked by his bodyguard detail. Reluctantly, she hugged the wall as they marched past her, watching them go.

"He didn't tell them," she muttered in observation, and with that, she made her way into the dome structure that served as the obvious 'Hey, you! Land here!' marker for most ships coming into Jakku. The room was arid and hot, the air filled with hissing and priming of the dozen or so mechanics serving whatever their job demanded. And there in center of it all was her technical boss, Constable Zuvio.

"Good," Zuvio snorted when he saw her coming in, rearing his almost comically large eyes at her, "was wonderin' when you'd show. We need to talk, now."

And with that, he stepped his office, which was quite literally the only place with air conditioning on the whole of the entire planet.

"Close the door, if you please."

When she did, he slammed his mechanical hand into the table, adding yet another dent to it.

"You mind explaining to me why I just lied to a bunch of fascists with the most bizzare and borin' fashion choice ever?"

"Zuvio, really? You're complaining about fashion choices while you're wearing that ridiculous excuse of a hat?"

He protectively groped his shield hat, and snarled.

"You're lucky this table is between us."

"Are you going to threaten me with your foot again?"

"Dear, the only reason why you haven't gotten the swift kick in the tuckus that everybody else here in this hobble of my domain has gotten is because you've been especially useful to me. But it appears that's changin'. It also appears you have a vacancy sign on your very fine rump that's just begging for a swift kick!"

"Now now, I would prefer you not add to your arthritis by trying to kick me around. I may be great with old machines breaking down but so much with old and cranky constables."

"I don't care. If I break off my leg, I will just take it and beat you to death with it."

"Charming."

"Charmingly dead, like everybody else on this planet, including my very meticulous business model! Which you've managed to endanger by being a softie! What did we say our golden rule was?"

"Making cred?"

"No! I mean yes! I mean… oh for Stars sake, why are the First Order looking for those two vagrants you decided to settle up with like you were their damn landlord?"

"I dunno."

"You lie."

"Gosh, you're smart."

"Y'know, I'm about this close from kicking your samaritan, smart-mouthed tuckus all the way up to Coruscant!"

"And probably beyond that, at this point. Why don't we make it Naboo and call it even?"

"Oh no. It ain't going to be even until you crash right back into Tatooine where you belong, missy!" he then slumped down wearily into his seat, his head in his hands, "Just when I thought Kangiklub was bad. Now these guys."

"Would it make you feel better that I had no idea they'd come looking?"

"No, not really. Look Rey, I won't pretend that I know you, your supernatural past or how the blazes you ended me up in this position. What I want to know is what you're going to do about it."

"What's the bounty worth?"

"Enough to renovate this settlement and actually make it respectable. I'd cut you in, of course."

"Zuvio," she leaned over the table, squaring up the Kyuzo with hard eyes, "you're right. You don't know me or where I've come from or what I can do. But you know me enough never to ask me to do that."

"Which is why I'm asking: what are you going to do?"

She sighed, leaning back in her own seat as she shook her head.

"Besides getting off this planet? I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

"Poor girl," he said sarcastically, "always with her head stuck in the clouds, never wise enough to see the foot coming to kick her away."

"You've got an obsession, you know that?"

"'Course I do. What are you doing **here** , exactly?"

"Remember our deal with the Star Destroyer?"

"I do."

"The hyperdrives are old, but they'll work well enough. I'll need a handful of additional parts. After that, you can consider this my resignation of service."

Zuvio sighed, and reached into his desk to remove a key.

"I figured as much," he handed it over to Rey, who took it hesitantly, "I ain't gonna lie. I've sent you on a fair share of suicide runs I ain't had no right to ask of you. Yet you did anyways. I've been a terrible boss, and you've put up with me, all things considered. Hell," he held up his robotic arm, "you even made me this."

"Well, you did give me a place to stay and a job to keep me tied down, so that makes us even."

"Yeah, I suppose. I'm guessing it'd be pointless to offer a raise?"

"Sorry, Zuvio. It's time for me to go."

"I suppose it is."

* * *

With her business concluded at Niima Outpost, Rey had made the return trip home. Unfortunately, ten minutes out, the engine had combusted into a cloud of smoke.

"Oh come on!" she cursed as she hopped off the thing, "This is the third time in two weeks you've done this to me," she emphasised her point by landing a kick on the engine compartment before slumping to the ground with a groan. She looked sideways at the 74-c and muttered, "y'know, I'm about ready to just toss you into a ditch and set you on fire. Do me a lot more good that way than you getting me halfway anywhere before stranding me out in the middle of nowhere!"

The craft seemed to groan in apprehension. Rey sighed, and looked up at the heavens. It was a clear overcast and it was still noon, which meant she didn't have to worry about some spontaneous storm looking to bury her under tons of sand. She could operate on it here, or walk it home. But in the back of her mind, she didn't look forward to doing either, but especially not the latter.

"Plenty of time," she grumbled to herself as she rose to her feet and plucked her tool kit from the back compartment of the speeder bike, "oh, plenty of time to fix this accursed thing, find a way to get off this planet, hope we don't get shot by Stormtroopers, or betrayed by Zuvio, or have some giant damn asteroid come out of nowhere and maroon us on some hot and arid little speck of the universe where everything is trying to kill us. Oh yeah, plenty of time," she sighed and shook her head as she dropped under the speeder and got to work, "oh suck it up, you drama queen. Life's not fair, deal with it and all that junk and… gah!"

Upon opening the engine compartment, her face was once again treated to a cloud of soot and smoke. Only this time, she hadn't been wearing her face wrap and now her face was once again covered entirely in the thick and oily black stuff. Except of course for her eyes, which had still been goggled on principle. These she pulled out, slumping into the soft sand underneath in an exhausted heap as she just looked at nothing in particular.

"What interdimensional, all-powerful hermit being did I tick off to be saddled with my sorry excuse for luck?"

"In my experience, there's no such thing as luck."

She looked upward to see Finn staring down at her. With a shake of the head and a grin, she chuckled.

"Funny you of all people should be saying that- wait, what are you doing here?"

"Just walking, I suppose."

"Walking?"

With that, she scrambled up like a mad cat, looking everywhere at once.

"Why are you out here? Why are you not back at the walker?"

"I…um," he scratched the back of his shaved head, looking for an answer, "well, I needed to think."

"Think?" she asked bemused, "About what, exactly?"

"Me," he replied stone faced before he gestured to the smoking bike, "do you need a hand with that?"

"I…" she sighed before reluctantly nodding. She then tossed him the tool kit and got back under the bike, asking for various tools as they went. It was slow going and was filled much with Rey's half-whispered vulgar cursing that strangely reminded Finn of his old instructors. He watched her work, almost fascinated by her and her working through the mechanical processes. It reminded him of… Slip. His subsequent sigh and slump into the desert floor was audible.

"Hey," Rey looked up at him, "you okay?"

"You remind me of someone."

"I do?"

"Yeah… ahem, someone I used to know."

Rey watched his eyes slant groundward.

"Is that a good thing or bad?"

"I guess… a bit of both."

Rey watched him for a long stretch as he looked at nothing in particular, doing nothing in particular. But his mind, his face, it was all confused. She was about say something when an electrical line shocked her.

"Ow!" she cursed as she shook her hand, "Hey, can you hand me the compensator? No no, that's the pulse line fixer."

"Um," Finn held up both tools for her to see, "they look the same."

"No they don't, silly," she giggled as she pointed at them, "that's the compensator, that's the pulse line."

He looked at her blankly.

"They look exactly the same."

Now it was Rey's turn to look at him blankly.

"Do you see the sensor modules on the bottom?"

"Yes?"

"Do you see one's green and the other's red?"

He deadpanned her.

"I'm not an idiot, you know."

"I… I didn't say you were."

"It sounded like it. Is there even a difference between the two?"

Rey looked as though she'd been insulted.

"Um, yes there happens to be a pretty big difference between the two! It's like comparing a star head and a flattie."

"They're both drivers."

"Your point, exactly?"

"They're both technically the same tool, and serve the same purpose."

"What? No they're-look, just gimme the damn tool already!"

Exasperated, Rey snatched the compensator from him and went to work, muttering something Finn couldn't quite catch, and then threatening to see fire to engine again.

"You know, threatening an inanimate object won't get it to cooperate faster."

"Yeah? Well, it makes me feel better. Stupid, damn compressor line. I've replaced it, welded it in place and done all manner of fusing without attaching technical tape to it, and it's still breaking down on me."

"Maybe you should try technical tape. You'd be surprised."

"Oh no, I refuse. My mom used to say that if you resort to tape, you might as well just toss it out and start anew."

"I don't know about that."

Rey looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, "You dare refute my mum's wisdom?"

"Where I come from, you learn to be creative."

"Y'know, my dad would've liked you."

"Oh?"

"Well, either before or after he gave you the 'dad talk'."

"What?" Finn asked.

Rey grinned, "You know when a father gives his daughter's suitors an intimidating talk?"

"Um… well, the Stormtrooper Corps never really had to worry about that," he replied, rubbing the back of his head, slightly flustered, "we were married off when we reached our thirties, so we could have children."

"If I may ask, what would your kids become, exactly?"

"The next generation of warriors... or, whatever else the First Order would have needed of them."

"So… your children belong to the state?" she asked, her eyes growing slightly wide.

Finn shrugged, "That is the idea, they are the next generation. The First Order molds them into whatever they need to be."

Rey shook her head, "That's horrible! If my father had to do that, oh he'd give the government hell and quite frankly so would I."

"Then you would die braver than most."

"Better that than to willingly give my kids to slavery."

"Slavery?" Finn voice become distant with the word though he quickly regained his composure, "You would call service to a higher cause slavery?"

"Not if it's of your own free will. Look at your friend, Poe. He joined the Navy of his own free will because…" she paused a moment, and her eyes suddenly darted left, but it so quick Finn wasn't sure if he'd just imagined it, "well, I have no idea why he joined. You're going to have to ask him why."

"Rey, his reasons are no different than my own. He believes in his cause. He's a patriot."

"You say patriot, and yet here you are. Betraying them. Helping a man you barely knew. Being hunted by your own."

"I…" he began but he found no words in that moment, "did he tell you?"

"No," she replied, rising from underneath the speeder and sitting across from him, "he didn't need to. I've… seen the look before."

"Look?"

"The look men had when they came back from war. From seeing things they could never unsee. Things they'd done they… they wished, more than anything, they could take back."

Finn nodded somberly, watching her for a moment.

"You had that look, too," he said, her eyes rising to his, "when you had me at gunpoint."

She did not reply.

"What did you see, Rey? What did **you** do?"

"I…" but the words died in her throat. She shuddered slightly, her mind, her body and her soul become cold, and in that moment, their eyes met. Met and withheld in the other for long stretching moments before Rey's eyes darted downward.

"I um, should probably finish fixing this… uh," she quickly dived back under the speeder again.

"I am sorry for what I said the night before," Finn said suddenly, "you saved our lives and I acted like an idiot."

"You have every reason to be suspicious, but so did I. I haven't exactly been entirely forthcoming with you either."

"That doesn't excuse how I acted," Finn replied, his face growing long and his eyes sealing from shame. Then he felt Rey's hand touch his, gripping it tightly. He opened his eyes, finding her close to him. Looking at him with eyes full of sympathy and even understanding.

"Finn… there are things you don't know about me. Things you have a right to know. I think that…" she swallowed, "that after I am done here, I will tell you **both** the truth. The truth about me. I promise."

Finn looked down at the hand holding his, the touch feeling alien to him. And yet… he looked at her, their eyes meeting again, and he nodded.

"Need anymore help, then?"

"Yeah," she answered with a grin, "pass me phase cutter. It's the-"

"I know which one that is," he held up the tool with a smile.

"Heh," she chuckled, "you are learning."

A minute later, the speeder roared to life.

"Any chance this bucket of bolts will fall apart on us again?"

Rey grinned broadly to him, "Probably. C'mon, hop on."

"Um… I'm not exactly comfortable riding back seat."

"Oh come on. Leave your manly dignity aside for one minute. Besides," she smiled slyly at him, "no one's around. Who am I going to tell?"

"...Fine."

And with that, he climbed onto the speeder's backseat, his strong arms wrapping her middle as she kicked in the throttle.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Rey asked.

"For…" he sighed a moment, "for everything, I suppose."

Rey smiled back at him, "You're more than welcome."


	15. Chapter 12 - Revelations

**Chapter 13 - Revelations**

* * *

 **Jakku**

 **Anchorite Ridge**

* * *

"So," Rey asked as she settled into her favorite, somewhat comfortable chair with a brew of cheap caffa held in her hands and taking a sip as she asked, "what's all this about, exactly?"

Finn had reached the opinion that if Rey was going to come with them, then she had a right to know. The feeling was mutually expressed by Poe, so here they were. Poe rose from his bunk and gestured to BB-8:

"Show her."

With that, the droid nodded, and with a few chirps ascended to a moderate altitude. A moment later, his holoprojector fired up and displayed the map recovered from the digsite. It sprawled across half of the room, the cluster of stars and suns and constellations dancing and twirling in limelight. A part of the map fell on Finn's face, so he moved out of the way; specifically over to stand next to Rey. That much earned a quick sly smile from Poe, which drew a look of annoyance from the former Stormtrooper.

Rey however was enthralled by the map displayed for her observation, her eyes narrowing and widening all at the same time.

"I… I don't recognize any of these constellations."

"That's because they're from the Unknown Regions," Poe replied, shifting positions to stand to the side of the map, "and even then, probably from an uncharted sector."

"He's right," Finn added, stepping closer to the map, "I don't recognize the systems displayed here, either. And the First Order has done an adequate enough job mapping out a great deal of it."

"Wouldn't that technically make it the Known Regions then?" Poe smirked.

"Sure," Finn replied dismissively, "I guess you could put it that way."

Rey finished her mug of caffa, setting it down on the table in front of her as she continued to watch the shifting masses, asking, "Well, why exactly would the First Order be looking for this? What are they looking for?"

"The man who gave me this told me they were looking for a weapon from the ancient times," Poe answered, "something the First Order would be very keen to get their hands on. He also told me that this map is incomplete. A piece of a larger puzzle."

"Some of which the First Order recovered from the ashes of the Empire," Finn continued, crossing his arms over as he did, "others they got from the Chiss and the Empire of the Hand, or so my superiors say."

"Really?" Poe asked in surprise, "Thrawn helped you?"

"Thrawn's a pragmatist," Finn replied, "neighboring our space, it was in his best interests to do so."

"So you threatened **the** Grand Admiral Thrawn?" Poe chuckled in disbelief, "Buddy, if half the stories I heard from Admiral Syndulla are true, I don't think that would go well at all!"

"Above my rank-grade," Finn deadpanned, "in either case, the First Order has been chasing this mystery since even before I was born. And considering the efforts we made to get this one particular piece… I would imagine it was the very last."

 _I wonder how the old man got ahead of them,_ Poe thought to himself, "I suppose that makes sense. Y'know, I heard the Empire had been sending teams out into the Unknown Regions even before the war. You think this was what they were looking for?"

"Undoubtedly," Finn nodded, "there was always speculation as to why Admiral Hux held the New Republic here on Jakku for so long rather than retreating."

"I don't understand."

"Jakku was one of the few mapped entry areas of the Regions, yes," Finn began, his hand stretching up to his chin, "and strategically, that would make it important, but not for the reasons we were all taught."

"Oh?"

"The Empire had countless outposts scattered throughout the Unknown Regions, known only to the surviving Admirals and Moffs. It is the reason why they were able to regroup and reorganize so quickly. However, if that be the case, then why didn't the Remnant merely jump to these coordinates, regardless of the danger? Yes, there would have been casualties… but surely not to the extent expended during the retreat with Hux holding the door."

"So what's your theory?"

"Simple. Hux and the rest of the command didn't want the New Republic chasing them. Didn't want them to find whatever it is they were looking for first."

"That makes sense," Poe nodded knowingly, "the Empire holds the New Republic at the practical gate to the Unknown Regions, bleeds us so badly that we rush to the negotiating table…"

"And what's left of the Empire can have enough of an advantage to dictate certain terms," Finn concluded, "including the creation of the Neutral Zone, which legally prevents any military intrusion on your part."

"Heh, clever for a bunch of Coruscanti credbags."

"Poe, we would have won at Endor were it not for the Emperor's blunders," Finn countered, "that much was taught to us."

"You kiddin'?" Poe smirked at him, "No one could stand to the might of the Ewoks," he joked. Surprisingly, Finn's face remained utterly stoic and dead serious.

"That's fair. The Empire made a grave mistake underestimating the resourcefulness and cunning of the inhabitants of a feral world," he smiled knowingly, "that much we were also taught. Trust me, I know what it's like fighting savages who want to cook you alive."

"Hey, they know not to do that anymore."

"You can't beat one's natural instincts out of him. If I had credits, I would wager they would revert back to their old roots when the fighting gets the fiercest."

"...that's true for any species though."

"Then my logic stands."

"Oh-kay…" Poe then looked over at Rey, who was now standing and observing the clusters closely with a keen eye, "hey, you haven't said a word."

She did not answer. Rather, her eyes continued to follow the trailing patterns of worlds and nebulas. Finn stepped closer to her, peering over her shoulder.

"What are you thinking?" he asked. Rey blinked once, and slowly began to smile, nodding as she did.

"I've seen this before."

"You have?" Poe asked in surprise, "When? How? Where?"

Rey sat back in her chair, a nostalgic smile playing on her face as her hand traced over her hair.

"Master Tekka's research. Oh, I used to bug him so much about it."

"Master… Tekka?" Poe's eyes widened, "You knew him?"

She nodded, "I did," her smile widened a stretch as her eyes looked out into space, seeing a world not here but long past and somewhere else, "he was… sort of my history teacher."

Poe stared at her. BB-8 stared at her. Finn leaned in, his eyes boring into hers. Finn said nothing at first, searching for something. He didn't know what. Rey merely stared back at him, almost expectantly. Finn shook his head and crossed his arms, finally asking the one obvious question that had been bugging him the moment he'd lain eyes on her:

"Who are you, really?"

Rey looked at him for a moment, then at Poe, and then at BB-8. She sighed, nodding once as a begrudging smile crept across her face.

Then her hand extended. Across the room, a brewing pot of caffa suddenly levitated from its perch on the miniature stove and flew across the room, Poe promptly ducking as the pot went past his head. It came to her hand perfectly, naturally and without a second thought. She poured herself a fresh cup, humming a soft tune as she did. Then she gestured her hands out again; a cupboard opening and two more mugs flew to her hands. Holding them firmly, the brewing pot floated in midair and poured each to a full brim.

Now full, the mugs floated forth steadily, the caffa calm and almost level, and into the hands of the staring men. With that, she lifted her own mug and took a sip, asking with a slight smile:

"Does that answer your question?"

Poe stared at her, then down at his mug; his mouth wide open. With a sudden haste, he turned the mug upward, checking the bottom. When he didn't find anything, he set it down; grabbing the brew pot and checking that too. When that didn't produce anything, he sprung towards the cupboard, shifting through that as well. Rey laughed a little.

"I'm good with machines… but I'm not that good."

Poe turned around slowly, almost robotically. He grabbed his mug, looking at his own reflection before he looked again at her. His was dumbfounded, stupefied. He knew what he just saw but like any rational man in the face of miracles, he questioned the validity of it.

"How'd you do that?"

She smiled at him, crossing a leg over as she continued to drink her caffa.

"Did you-?" he gestured his finger at the cupboard. She raised an eyebrow, sipped at her caffa and nodded very slowly, musing a _Mmm-hmm._

"That means…" he then gestured his finger questioningly at her, "you're a…"

"Mmm-hmm," she repeated, her smile growing just a bit broader as she leaned forward in her seat. Poe's mouth dropped, and he collapsed onto his bunk. He stared at the floor, shaking his head slowly as BB-8 bobbed over to shake him slightly.

"So," Finn replied, his head tilting slightly left as he crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing slightly, "you're a Jedi."

Rey sat back in her chair, nodding at him, "I am."

"I thought…" Poe began, her breath sounding like he'd just run a marathon, "I thought you all were killed off."

Rey eyed him for a moment, a flash of pain washing over her face as her voice hardened, "Not all of us."

Finn continued to look at her, his face stoic and unchanging. But inside… inside, his mind was a mess of confusing emotions. Emotions that gave way to questions. Questions that gave way to doubt.

"I didn't lie, Finn," she said suddenly, breaking his stewings as his attention was drawn to her again.

"About?"

She put away her mug, her hands falling over her knees.

"You're asking yourself why I saved you. Why I would save someone who I should rightly consider my enemy. An enemy I should have left to die in the desert. Yes?"

Finn nodded. "You read my mind?" he asked.

"No," she replied, "I was never good at telepathy. I just read your emotions."

Finn nodded again, "What's your answer, Jedi?"

"My answer, Trooper, is the same one I gave you days ago."

"I don't believe you," Finn countered, his tone more matter-of-factly than challenging. Rey rose to her feet, staring him hard in the eyes as she replied evenly:

"Finn, you were dying. Poe was dying. I couldn't stand back and let that happen."

"Why me?" Finn asked, drawing closer to her, "Poe I understand. He is an officer of the New Republic Navy, and by association, an ally. I am not."

"Are you going to say that if our positions had been reversed, you would have killed me when you had the chance?"

Finn nodded, "It's the logical thing to do. You don't treat your enemy. You kill them before they get the chance to do the same to you."

Rey looked at Poe, then at Finn, "Then you don't understand me, Finn, or what a Jedi is."

"Then tell me, Rey. Tell me, if I was armed and trying to kill you, would you kill me first?"

"Yes. To defend myself, I would take whatever measures necessary to stop you."

"And yet you would save me, nurse me back to health, feed me. Why?"

"You weren't armed," Rey countered calmly, "or trying to kill me, and this line of questioning is grating on my nerves. I do not deal in what ifs or what could have been. I deal in the here and now, and the here and now **then** was that I had two sick and exhausted men who would die within hours if I didn't save them first."

Finn glared at her, unsure of anything she'd just said. Rey met the intensity of his glare, shaking her head at him.

"I know the real reason why you're asking me this, Finn. You're not asking me why I saved you. You're asking me why I didn't just let you die out there in desert. Why you didn't get the death you wanted. Why **I** didn't grant you that death."

Finn stared at her for a moment and sighed, "You're right." he admitted. He looked at Poe, who in turn looked right back at him with approaching horror. Finn shook his head and sat down on his bunk, his hands cupped in front of him.

"When I found you out in the desert, you asked me why I was out there," he began, looking at Rey, "you asked me why I was alone."

"You told me you were thinking about yourself."

He looked at them all again, collecting his thoughts for a moment before he continued:

"I wanted to die. I've wanted to die ever since my men died here. I even tried to take my own life but I couldn't do it."

"What?" Poe asked him, adding with a sudden abject horror, "Were you looking to get yourself killed by saving me?"

"No," Finn shook his head, "my reasons for saving you were honest. You did something I didn't understand back in that village. I knew my superiors would kill you the moment you gave up whatever useful information you had. I knew I had to save you. I knew I couldn't let you die."

"So you saved him," Rey said, and to this, Finn nodded.

"My mission afterwards was to get Poe off planet. After that, I didn't care what happened to me."

"I would care what happened to you," Poe replied, his horror only continuing to mount, "Finn, I may have only known for a couple of days, but still-"

"Please don't say we're repeating the story of your parents," Finn deadpanned, "I am **not** your father, Poe. I didn't make any right choices. I didn't betray my own people out of love or anything like that. I just… I just did."

"That's a lie, and you know it," Poe growled, standing from his bunk to walk over to him, "I saw your face when you told me why you saved me. When you told me how you felt when those people died. You can hate yourself all you want but you can't lie to yourself or to me."

"Poe… what would have happened to me anyway? What, your New Republic would've taken me in? An enemy combatant who's already broken the rules of civil order? Who's killed children? And say they had, what then? Would I be spending the rest of my life in a cell, waiting to reveal information that would undoubtedly kill more of my brothers and sisters?"

"You've already betrayed them!" Poe shouted,

"I WON'T KILL THEM!" Finn shouted back, his eyes mad with fury, "Do you understand me? I will **never** kill them."

"Finn," Rey soothed, her hand caressing his muscular shoulder, "you may not have betrayed your brothers and sisters… but you must realize that the cause you, and every other Trooper out here follow is wrong," her hand tightened around his bicep, "I know you know this."

"More emotional reading?" Finn asked with a sigh.

"Empathy, Finn," she sighed, closing her eyes, "I was good at many things but empathy…" she opened her eyes again, staring at him almost accusingly, "what were you going to do if you hadn't stopped to help me?"

"I don't know," Finn shrugged, "I was probably going to walk until I couldn't walk any further."

"Oh you gotta be kiddin' me!" Poe exclaimed, turning away with his hands twisting into his hair before settling on his hips. Rey however pulled her chair over with a flick of her hand and sat next to him, her hand resting on his knee.

"Why did you stop?"

"Because you needed help."

"Finn," her grip on his knee tightened, her voice lighting to a whisper, "tell me the truth."

Finn's shoulders slackened, hanging his head in shame. Rey fingers caressed his face, bringing him to her again, her hazel eyes staring into his brown.

"Please."

Finn's eyes lightened.

"I don't know. I just saw you there and I just…" he didn't finish the thought, rather he started a new one, "I don't know what I am anymore. I don't know **who** I am. I don't even know why I'm still breathing, why the galaxy hasn't just snuffed me out yet. I… I just don't know."

"Yeah? Well, you know what I think?" Poe said as he marched across the room and knelt beside him, "You're my friend. You saved my life and I owe you. Now I don't know what the future's got in store for you, or us, but you got me and a Jedi to vouch for you. If it comes to it, I'll find a life for you when we get back."

"You… would do that?" Finn asked in disbelief. Rey smiled.

"Yes he would."

Poe smirked at her, "Don't you go poking around my feelings, missy."

"Oh please," Rey smirked right back him, "I don't need the Force to tell what **you're** thinking," she added with a sly grin. Poe shrugged his shoulders.

"You got me. I'm a simple man with simple needs."

"That's just swell," Finn replied with a hint of sarcasm, "either way… thank you."

"Hey, don't you mention it," Poe smiled down at him, "got a hellovaways to go before I chip away at that big looming debt hanging over my head… eh, BB-8, what are you doing?"

They all turned around and there was the droid, floating behind them. He beeped something they all didn't catch and his arm reached inside him. What he pulled out made their eyes go wide. He handed it to Rey, who took it with shaking fingers. She stared down at its metalwork, the black grip running down the middle and the grooved pommel at the end. It was a utilitarian in design, and she knew it well. And in this, her eyes filled up with tears.

"This is Master Tekka's lightsaber," she turned to BB-8, asking the question she dreaded the answer to, "Where did you get this?"

BB-8's head drooped downward, staring at the ground. Poe gulped, guilt racking him suddenly as Rey eyed him.

"What happened to Master Tekka, Poe?"

"He's… gone."

"I know," her voice was grave, hollow and distant, "what happened?" she asked again.

"He was killed by a man with a red lightsaber," Poe began, but Finn finished:

"Kylo Ren."

"Kylo… Ren," she repeated the name, her fingers tightening around the slain master's saber, her voice growing into a hiss, "Sith."

"He's a Lord of the Knights of Ren, Master of the Fleet, but he is stationed on the Ravager right now," Finn explained, "probably searching for us as we speak."

He was about to add something, something he knew but second-guessed the wisdom of saying it.

"Say it," Rey growled softly.

"It is rumored that he has killed many Jedi Knights. That he… had a hand in their destruction."

Rey was silent. Her face shifting from rage, to pain, to remorse and to something in between. She held the saber in her hands, her body shaking and her breathing unsteady. Her eyes blazed like a forge, hot to the touch.

"Rey," Poe touched her gently on the arm, and it got an angered look from her, seeing not him there but… something else, "what happened to the Jedi?"

Her face softened as she looked away, staring at the scrap hole she had called home for so many years.

"The Jedi Order was **not** destroyed," Rey replied after a while, sighing, "It is a long and complicated story."

Finn's hand touched hers, the feeling of it making her flinch. However, the unspoken look in his eyes was all she needed. So she began. And where else to begin, but the beginning?

"After the **Old** Jedi Order was destroyed at the end of the Clone Wars, the few remaining Masters and Knights and Padawans still alive went into hiding. Some of them were hunted down. Some even left the Order, left their principles. Some even went down darker paths. All the while the Empire and their Sith Masters continued to rule with an iron fist."

This was known history to the two men, but neither of them dared interrupt her. She continued:

"Then rose a single man. A new hope that brought the Sith and their evil empire crashing down."

"Luke Skywalker," Poe said, and she nodded.

"Luke Skywalker. The Jedi reborn. And so, after Endor, he began to create a new Order. Small at first. A few students, some of them already awakened to the Force, one of them being my father. They served in the last stages of the war, my father even saying they fought here on Jakku a few times."

Finn nodded. It had been long stated that Admiral Hux had survived an assassination attempt by them, and he'd seen the man's prosthetic arm to know the truth of the matter.

"After the war, the Order continued to grow. New students, and old. He found other Jedi Orders, some formed by Jedi of the Old who survived the Purge," she smiled at the memory of her many teachers and fellows, "Master K'Kruhk, Master Ti, Master Tano, Master Jarrus… and my own master, Hett," her smile faded slightly, "they didn't all get along of course. Even tried to kill each other once or twice. It ultimately took a war with a resurgent Sith terrorist organization to eventually bring them all together. Funny," she chuckled, "Master Skywalker actually met his wife that way."

She pulled over her caffa, and took a sip, laying the lightsaber down on the table.

"And so, they came together. Made a new Order, one that brushed away the mistakes of the Old and built something stronger. Something better," her smile returned, "and so, I was among some of the newest students. My dad of course wanted me in the moment he sensed I inherited his sensitivity. My mom… eh, not so much, but he convinced her eventually."

Poe nodded, conclusions forming in his mind, "When you said you grew up on Yavin, you meant the Old Massassi Temple… before it got bombed, of course."

She nodded. It had happened when she was still a little girl. Fanatics and corrupt bureaucrats who wanted to sweep away the Jedi and generally any Force user still left in the galaxy. And they'd come close, too, and left her father alone to care for her.

"The Chimera Crisis forced us into hiding… of a sorts. Once we established a new temple on a secret world Master Tekka found in long hidden holocrons, and after the corruption within the government was cleared away by the Antarian Rangers, well… we went back to work," her eyes shined brightly at what came next, "those were some of the happiest years of my life. I spent most my training with Hett and my sister student Kali on Tatooine, living with the Tuskens for a time," she pulled at her mask. Finn nodded.

"Served you well here on this planet."

"Yes," she continued, "once me and Kali completed our trials and were Knighted, well…" her smile broadened, "you could say we walked the galaxy, met people, fought others, got in adventures."

Poe's eyes brightened with dawning realization. Warm memories of a fierce but beautiful red Twi'lek woman coming to mind, and he asked with a smile:

"We? Surely not just you and Kali?"

Rey growing smile answered that one, "No, not just me and Kali. There were my father's students, Jaden and Rosh. Oh those two were real terrors. Always finding themselves waist deep in trouble with a lot of bruises… especially when it came to a cult trying to resurrect an ancient Sith Lord. Oh, that was fun. Okay, sure, we almost got killed a couple dozen times, but hey. What can I say? At least it wasn't boring."

Poe's smile grew just a tad longer, "Go on, who else?"

Rey shot a smile his way, and continued, "Then there was Tahiri, of course. Strange one, she was. Grew up on Tatooine, and always used to walk around barefoot everywhere she went. Said she liked the coolness of it. Poor girl went through a lot, had lots of strange habits, and yet she always managed to keep a bright smile on her face and," she chuckled softly, "that insufferably optimism of hers. Ah, I loved her greatly. She and Ben were dead set for each other the moment they laid eyes on each other."

"Ben…" Poe mused with knowing grin, "not Ben Skywalker, son of Luke, apprentice of Ahsoka Tano?"

Rey nodded, asking the rest with an obvious smile, "and I suppose you know her other student, Ben's worser half?"

"Cale Solo," he answered, "ah yes, I know the cocky son of a blaster. Mr. Smug Daredevil, steal your girl while looking good doing it, and then later saving my sorry hide one too many times with his cousin. 'Course, Ben was always there to pull him out of trouble. Ah, his dad would've been proud of him."

"That he was," her eyes flashed with the warm memory.

"...wait a minute… You're **that** Rey, the one he would not shut up about."

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded, "I heard about you too, Poe."

"Oh really? What'd he say?"

"That you were the… oh, how'd he put it? The 'cockiest son of a blaster I've ever met! Mr. Smug Daredevil, steal your girlfriend while looking good doing it, and saving me and Ben's hides more times than we care to remember!'"

"...no. He did not say that… did he?"

"Yes he did."

"Ah, well… um. Yeah. All accurate, I suppose."

Finn sat there for a moment, "Wait, I am confused. I thought you said that you loved Tahiri."

"I meant as a sister," she deadpanned.

"Oh, sorry. So… this was the War for Antiga?"

Rey nodded, her eyes darkening with sadness, "Yes. I suppose you know how this tale goes, Poe?"

He nodded gravely, "Yeah… ah, Antiga. The unofficial border nation between us and the First Order. Made up of a bunch of hardass ex-Imperials who didn't want to submit to one side or the other, just sitting there in the middle. Waiting to implode. And when it did…"

"I know of this," Finn said, "back when I was still a cadet. The Galactic Concordance that ended the Galactic Civil War also stated that no Imperial or New Republic military force may step into the Neutral Zone, including Antiga."

"Yup," Poe nodded, "if we did, then all bets were off. Problem was, the whole damn system was a big Tibana keg. Forces loyal to either side were tearing each other apart. Millions, probably billions being left homeless. More were… collateral damage."

"So you were there, as a Rancor?"

"Yup again. The 75th Volunteer Wing."

"'Flying Rancors bite with a Vengeance,'" Rey recited the wing's motto.

"And proud," Poe grinned, "Captain was one Nien Numb, retired officially. Most of us had forged papers saying we were one place when we were somewhere else. So, along with a few other proud 'mercs', we entered the fray. Flew sorties, shot down a lot of bad guys, gave our pals on the ground much needed air support. Course, only could do so much. Well, 'till the Jedi showed up."

Finn nodded again, "As a non-political body, they could disregard the Concordance if offered as an humanitarian mission?"

"Yes," Rey replied, "after the Chimera almost wiped out the Jedi, Luke formally removed our official status in the New Republic government. The added bonus was we could loophole a solution to quite a few problems."

"Clever, I admit," Finn said and Poe continued:

"And so it went. I believe you all were there, along with Master Tano."

Rey nodded.

"I'm not that good of a pilot. I did most of my work on the ground."

Poe chuckled, "Yes… Cale told us stories of all those times you kept crashing your…"

"I am sure," Rey cut him off, and Poe took the hint, and continued his tale:

"Well, things were good. We generally had the bad guys on the run," he looked over at Finn, "no offense."

"None taken."

"Well… till the end."

"The end?"

"Those pro-Imperials? Well, they started getting desperate. Fixed battle turned to guerilla warfare, and it kept getting nastier as the months passed."

Rey didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Her face told the story well enough.

"I mean…" his voice contorted into an animalistic growl, "they started taking kids as hostages. They even rigged 'em up and used them as bio-bombs and they…"

"You can stop," Finn said. Poe looked up at him, who was in turn looking at Rey. Her head slumped over, her hair hiding her eyes… but not her tears. They fell like raindrops, splashing against her gown. BB-8 floated up to her, his hand resting on her shoulder, the other brushing her hair. She raised her head, her eyes clouded in tears, and even as they continued to fall, she spoke:

"We did what we could to stop these atrocities, but we couldn't save them all," Rey sniffed as she choked back a sob, "and… not all of us made it out."

Poe's voice broke, "I'm… I'm sorry."

She shook her head, "She died the way she lived: saving those who couldn't fend for themselves. I am proud to have known her as long as I did."

"Still…" Poe shook his head, "she was… one hellova woman."

A small smile crossed her somber face, "She would've liked that," she wiped away her tears and continued, "there were others, of course. Others who fell. But… but many more went missing... Kali. Cale."

"I remember. We searched for months trying to find them."

"But we didn't. So we… collected ourselves, and we went home. Home," she repeated, "was not the same. It was… no one was happy anymore. We were all broken by the war. Broken… shattered. And it didn't end. There was more violence. Fires that started across the galaxy, and we had to put them out. Then there were the damn bounties. Now every bounty hunter looking for cred was out to get us. We… we got pushed back until we couldn't even leave our temples save in secret."

Finn's heart sank as the tale went. He knew some of it. He knew who had been the architect of all this… pain.

"I don't blame you, Finn," she said, looking up at him honestly, "you weren't a part of it."

"I know, but… I know who did. Lord Damask," Finn sighed, nodding solemnly, "Lord General of the First Order, Master of the Knights of Ren. Our… supreme commander."

She nodded, "We knew of him. My dad thought he was a Sith, Tekka thought he was just some old business supporter of Palpatine back when he was Chancellor. Nobody knew for sure, but," she sighed, brushing away her tears as she steeled herself for what came next, "the end came for us not long after the First Order sent delegates for the first time in thirty years to open negotiations with the New Republic. While the galaxy was distracted, they… struck," her voice spat venom, "men in masks. Men with lightsabers. A whole fleet descended on the Temple. Hundreds… maybe thousands."

"Kylo Ren's fleet?" Poe asked Finn, but he shook his head.

"At the time it would have been before its formation. No, this might have been Primaris' forces. I heard he was killed sometime after. Rumor was by a blind Jedi, though it was also said he died along with him."

Rey smiled at the description, "At least he took this 'Primaris' with him."

The words however rang hollow. Regardless, she continued.

"I don't know how many of us died. I don't know how many of us are still alive. The only ones I know for sure were K'Kruhk and Ti. They managed to fight their way out with most of the youngest Padawans and escape the battle. After that… I don't know. I lost contact with them years ago. So… for all I know," Rey's voice ran heavy in somber tones, "I might be one of the last Jedi. I…" her voice cracked again as she broke into a sob, "I don't even know if my own father is even alive!"

She buried her face in her hands, weeping. Her body shook with the effort, a release of emotions she'd held back for so long that she couldn't even remember. What Finn did next was not of his own conscious thought. It was… something beyond him. But he could not deny that the actions were his own, or that they were right. He took Rey in his powerful arms, clutching her closely to him. Her face found his shoulder, her arms wrapping around him, and so she cried for long stretching minutes.

It was in this that something changed in Finn. A feeling he struggled to describe until it came to him. Conviction. His face met Poe's who sat across from them, and in it his face hardened. When Rey had shed her tears, he took her face in his hands. What he said next was said in purpose, in certitude.

"I'm going to get you home," he looked at Rey and he looked at Poe, "both of you. That much, I promise."

And he would keep it… regardless of the consequences.


	16. Chapter 13 - The Emerald Raptor

**Chapter 14 - The Emerald Raptor**

* * *

 **Jakku**

 **Niima Outpost**

* * *

Surprisingly, saying goodbye was the most difficult task. Rey, the stranded Jedi survivor, had long come to accept the fact that her home on Jakku was temporary at best. It was meager and rather spartan in decoration; a tomb from a past war. She'd chosen the remains of the AT-AT purely because it was out of sight, and because its armored hide would provide a great deal of protection. It was shelter in the most barest of senses… and yet, she'd made it her home.

She sighed then as she looked at the confines of it for the last time. She'd been here for far too many years. Yes, it had been necessary to hide long enough for any hunters at her wake to lose her scent. But she'd chosen the exile here for far longer than what had been necessary. She didn't know why entirely back then, though she laid the blame on her guilt for having lived when so many hadn't; for running instead of dying with her family.

But she knew the truth now. The Force worked in mysterious ways, and had led her here. She could've ended up on any world, any place. Yet, she'd been brought here, kept here, and survived the dangers this world had thrown at her long enough to rescue the lives of two men and a droid. She chuckled to herself. All this strangely reminded her of the various history lessons Master Tekka had given, and of how objectively random events had the greatest effects on galactic history.

"What you call random events," Tekka had said once, "I call the Will of the Force. Others might call it fate. The more… grandeur of this sort will go so far as to call it destiny."

She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. She wanted no part in destiny. She wanted her father back. She wanted her family, her brothers, her sisters back. She wanted her life to go back to the days of walking the galaxy and getting into adventures; of when things were carefree to an extent, and problems could be solved with a lightsaber followed by a witty remark. This… this was the prelude to war, and she was tired of war.

She didn't realize she'd been crying. That she'd been crying for several minutes, standing there in the shadow. She didn't even realize that Finn had taken her into his arms again, holding her there with whatever meager comfort he could give. She accepted it warmly. It had been a long time since she'd felt any kind of closeness or comfort that hadn't been done to take advantage of her. It was a release for her, but it was not one she could afford to dwell in for much longer. When her tears were spent, she wiped them away and closed the side hatch for the last time.

Naturally, there was an argument about who was going to sit where on the speeder bike. A while back, Rey had the foresight to dig out and custom build a sidecar for the speeder bike just in case something like this had happened. As she attached it to the bike, she could hear the boys debating darkly about the obviously sensitive matter regarding their masculine pride. Ironically, it was been BB-8 who suggested rather cheekily that since Finn had already grown accustomed to riding behind Rey, he should continue to do so.

Reluctantly, Finn agreed. After this, they all went through the process of checking their gear and making sure they hadn't forgotten anything. Both Finn and Poe wore outfits meant to make them look like locals. Finn had donned a poncho purely for the reason of concealing his F-11 while Poe had spent the majority of the night altering a leather jacket so that the bulge of his own blaster pistol was hardly noticeable under his shoulder. Both of these the two men had spent a few moments checking and inspecting before they holstered them and mounted the speeder. BB-8 in turn sheltered himself on Poe's lap with a blanket on top.

As Rey seated herself along the driver controls, she tossed them shemagh masks. They both knew there was a good chance there would still be a patrol of Stormtroopers in town, so they didn't complain. Granted that didn't stop Poe from cursing every time his own mask kept falling off his head.

"What is the secret to this!?" he cursed. Rey laughed at his misfortune.

"What can be said? You have a small head."

"Not funny," he deadpanned, "how's yours staying on?"

"Oh, you know, the Force and all that. Believe me, I can get away with a ridiculous amount of things with the Force at my fingertips," she replied with a smirk.

"Great," he mumbled, "I guess I'll add stealing your super powers to my list of things to do when I get off this planet."

"Try and I will bury your head in the sand."

"Oh please," he smirked, "I've been tortured, shot at, nearly killed in my sleep six times, and even dragged around for twelve miles by a bunch of angry Nerfs! So, believe me when I say I laugh at your little head burying threat there, darling!"

Finn cracked an arctic smile, "You shouldn't. The temperatures of the sand can get hot enough to burn you alive. The Tribes of Parnassos sometimes would cover you in pitch just to speed up the process."

"Oh great," he exclaimed by throwing his arms out very dramatically, "all my friends are a bunch of sadists!"

"Complaining is unbecoming, Poe," Finn smiled.

"Yeah, sure. Look, can you guys just help me with this already?"

Minutes passed, and Rey cast a last look over her shoulder before she kicked in the accelerator and the four of them sped across the desert at lightning speed. Her thoughts became a blur with the whiplash brushing over her head. Thoughts of the past, thoughts of the present, and more importantly, thoughts of the future. Once they got off world and the information resting in BB-8's memory banks were safely in the hands of the New Republic… what then? She found it a funny irony that she was in almost the same boat as Finn when it came to her future prospects.

No doubt there would be conflict, more than likely all-out-war. If and when it came, Rey knew that it would be her duty to do what she could to aid the New Republic. But what of her other duties? Though Rey knew that Master Ti and K'Kruhk had escaped the attack on the Temple with at least two dozen students, she didn't know if they were still alive. If anyone was still alive. It was a chilling thought to her, that she might very well be the last remaining Jedi in the galaxy.

It wasn't something she wanted to believe, and she hoped beyond hope that it wasn't true. But what if it was? Would she have to do what Master Kenobi did? What Master Yoda did? She was a Knight, and she'd long since earned that title… but she didn't know if she was ready to try to pass on what she knew to someone else. If she was the last Jedi, then she would have to.

A dozen more questions filled her mind. Where would she start? How would she find a student? How would she know if she did find one? What would she teach him or her? All these questions made her heart run still. More than ever, she felt truly alone.

Before she could think any further, they were on the outskirts of town. She shook her head. She really needed to stop going on these inner monologues. They were bound to get her into trouble.

"So, what are we going to do with the bike?" Poe asked as he disembarked keeping BB-8 wrapped snugly in a ball of blankets.

"Leave it," she replied, pushing it over to a rocky corner, "let someone else have it. I'm not coming back here anytime soon."

Finn was on the outskirts as this exchange went, his senses alert with his hands resting on his blaster rifle buried beneath his poncho.

"Hey, ease off on the bouncer look, buddy," Poe chuckled as he patted him on the shoulder, "you're gonna attract trouble by looking like you're looking for it."

He grunted and relaxed his hands, but not his eyes. Above all else, he hoped they wouldn't run into anymore of **his** own. Traitor or not, his weapon was staying on stun, regardless of the tactical disadvantage. He just hoped it wouldn't have to come to that.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked Rey.

"Follow me and keep close," and with that, they stealthy made their way to the south side of town. It helped that it was morning hour, which meant the largest influx of customers. It was just a matter of slipping in unnoticed and making their way discreetly. Eventually, they came across the eastern entrance, where right on time a mass of scavengers, traders and other vagabonds were making their rounds. It was a simple enough manner to blend in with the middle of the line, though a few did look their way when Poe started whistling to himself. A nudge to the elbow from Finn put an end to it, though not before he chuckled, "Sorry, couldn't resist."

BB-8 responded by smacking him in the knee with an arm so fast nobody noticed.

 _If I die and go to Hell, I'm taking you with me!_

"Oh please, I'm going to Heaven, and into the arms of dozen beautiful women!"

"A dozen?" Finn asked bemused, "Why so many?"

"Why so few?" he shot back with a smirk, to which Rey just rolled her eyes.

"Are you always thinking about getting in bed with beautiful women, flyboy?"

"Sister, I've been having the worst couple of weeks in years. I fully intend to kick back and enjoy an extended vacation, snug and secure in the said arms of very professional beautiful women… once this is all over, of course. What about you?" he asked Rey, "Got any special places you got planned to go visit? Maybe a special someone?"

"Poe, I've been living in the middle of nowhere for a couple of years now. Where would I be able to find a special someone?"

"Ah, a gal like you? Any man be lucky to have you in their company."

 _Laying it on kind of thick there,_ BB-8 laughed at him, which Poe responded by smacking him over the head. Rey just shook her head at that, muttering something that suspicious looked like "Boys…"

"Well, to answer your first question… I might go and visit the beaches of Spira. My parents got married there. They always talked about how beautiful it was, but I never got around to going."

"Ah, I've been there!" Poe beamed brightly, "Really is quite beautiful. Especially the sunsets. Bright golds and reds with a dance of green as the sun slips behind the sea. And the beaches themselves? Unrivalled, especially during the fall when the sea is nice, warm and calm. But the people? Oh, heh, well they're quite welcoming."

"I take it there are beautiful women there?" Finn asked incredulously.

"Finn, man, beautiful women ain't the only thing that's on my mind, thank you very much. Though if you're looking for some, I would recommend Zeltros. Though have an escape planned. They'll make you want to stay."

"Noted."

"Now where was I? Oh yeah, the people. Heh, quite lively and fun, always looking to chat up a storm, peel back a few layers, and serve up some Aghiroghiko."

"Aghira-what?"

"It's a type of red wine. I know, it's a bit of an acquired taste, and a pinch on your wallet, but man… heh heh, nothing quite like it. Fellow named Hephes said it best," Poe then put on something of a high-pitched, fast-paced yet elderly sounding accent with over-enunciation on the vowels, "'Aghiro is like the finest sea, y'see? Stormy build up, and going down, but after the gale is through? Like bliss in the new found dawn!'"

"Wow," Rey smiled warmly, "Never been much of a drinking gal myself, but from that illustratious description alone," that earned a sly smile from Poe, "I'll have to try it."

"Best to have it with Cretian Longsword fish. Goes down real nice."

"Ooh, now you're making me hungry. What about you, Finn?" Rey asked as they slipped in through the markets, "Got anywhere you'd like to go?"

"Honestly? Coruscant."

"Coruscant?" Poe asked in disbelief, "Of all the places you'd want to go, why there?"

"You could say the Fir… my brothers, revere it. Many of my superiors speeches involved our eventually liberation of it, and restoration of its glorious status in the galaxy. I guess you could say I would like to see it for myself... without having to conquer it."

"See what all the fuss is about, I getcha," Poe shrugged, "Well, I guess as far as perceived holy lands go, it's fairly reasonable. But after you're done with your pilgrimage and such? Look me up, I'll show you the best the galaxy's got to offer," he then beamed at Rey, "you're welcome to come along, keep this merry band going. 'Sides, didn't you say you kinda 'Walked the Galaxy?'"

"I did," she chuckled, "though every given sunday, we were getting hogtied by some diabolical cult leader or kingpin and such, and left to dangle over a pool of lava… or in my personally favorite case, Krakanas."

"Lemme guess, they all start monologuing?"

"Oh yes," she laughed, "they all start this prepared speech about how pathetic we were compared to them, about how inevitable our deaths are, and how the galaxy will soon be theirs! I mean, these guys had us at their mercy, and they won't shut up!"

"If I was them," Finn chuckled dryly, "I would just shoot you and be done with it."

"See? That's why you're not an intergalactic crimeboss. You wouldn't treat it like some sports event or something. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad they all did. I can count on two hands the number of times ego induced stupidity saved my life. But still, could these guys take what they're doing at least kinda seriously? I mean, they're either resurrecting some Sith Lord, or trying to blow up a planet, or blackmail someone by pointing a gun at said planet... and they treat it like a **game**?"

Finn nodded, "You have had an interesting life."

"It wasn't boring, that's for sure," she grinned with a twinkle in her eye, "hey, turn here."

Ahead was suspiciously one of the best maintained buildings in the scrapheap and bolt layered town.

"Is that what I think it is?" Poe asked, and Rey answered with a 'Mmm-hmm.' With this, she produced an electronic key, and they slipped inside, Finn staying on rearguard to see if anybody had seen them go in.

"Relax, Finn," Rey said from the front, "I come here all the time."

"Right," and with a last check of the area, he joined them at the front. Ahead of them was a heavy duty grav-door. Obviously, that had cost an arm and leg.

"So, what you got for us?" Poe smiled curiously, "Piece of junk or a luxury piece?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it junk or luxury," she shrugged.

"What would you call it, then?" Finn asked.

"Unique."

She opened the grav-door. They were greeted with a varily large docking bay of typical fashion. Round and circular with an open top meant for take off, though this one had a covering. Only a few dim lights were on, hanging from the rafters above. Rey flicked open a switch, and suddenly the world was bathed in a bright light that caused everyone to turn away until their eyes could adjust to the sudden brightness. When they did, their eyes went wide.

"What the hell is that thing?" Finn asked. Poe answered with a smile that grew and grew as he started to circle the craft in question.

"If I'm not mistaken… that's a Hammerhead Class Gunboat. Admiral Syndulla had a bunch of them in the Phoenix Fleet. But it's… different. Like a lot different. I mean, it's missing its 'hammerhead'... and you instead installed a Corellian bubble cockpit. And... its gotta bunch of other ship parts bolted on. Yup, I'm definitely looking at an 'ugly'."

"I hope you mean that as a term of endearment, Poe," Rey teased with a smile, sitting down in a convenient chair, "though you are correct in that assessment."

"Where'd you find it?"

"In a junkyard, where else?" She answered with a smile, "Poor thing was gutted and torn in two. We practically tore apart six other ships to rebuild this one."

"Why not just get a new ship?" Finn asked.

"Where's the fun in that? It was a labor of love. The perfect bonding experience for a bunch of soon-to-be Jedi Knight teenagers."

"Six different ships, huh?" Poe commented as he ran his hand along its metal frame, "Mebbe make that seven… or even eight. Hell, if this thing wasn't so well put together, I really would have to call it an Ugly."

"Don't insult my baby," Rey deadpanned, "she's mine and I love her fondly."

"She got a name?"

"The Emerald Raptor."

Poe could only laugh at that description, especially with its aforementioned color scheme of a dull and faded emerald, plus a pair of silver bird pinions along the wings. The Raptor itself was 115 feet long with a wingspan of 54 feet, triangular in its appearance. The wings themselves were in reality a pair of smaller secondary engines strapped to the main body of the ship followed by a pair of large primary engines, all tapered at a 40 degree angle and wrapped within a plas-steel covering. By his best guess, the secondaries were a pair of Incom Fusials, probably 4j or k from one of the X-Wing variants. The primaries however were unmistakably of Quadex Kyromasters pulled from from a pair of B-Wings. In addition to this were nearly two dozen sets of repulser lifts.

"So, who'd you tick off getting this stuff?" he asked, pointing at the obvious repulsors.

"Oh, the Zhan-Sun Consortium, of course. We may or may not have stolen one or two Star Vipers, and… well, ripped out one or two parts."

"One or two? Heh, sure."

Poe could only smile. Thrust power, sustainability and utter maneuverability was covered in spades. Now his eyes wandered all over the rest of the ship, picking up further details as he went, such as another set of bubble cockpits on both the bow and spin of the craft. These however were tucked inside a bit, and Poe smiled at that.

"Lemme guess. These two extend out when the shooting starts."

"Mmm hmm."

Now his eyes were set on the meat of the craft: its large array of weapons. Obviously, there was the dorsal mounted chin cannon located at the front of the craft. The rest however were hidden, and though hidden well, they were noticeable. Heavy blaster cannons and ion casters hidden on either side of the cockpit via retractable pods, an array of missile and flare launchers within the superstructure of the wings themselves. Plus a subset of torpedo bays on the tip of the craft, and undoubtedly the two additional cockpits on the top and bottom were gunner positions.

"Considering you appeared to give it every single weapon imaginable, you made a good choice on the name." Finn said, nodding his approval.

"It's practically a custom built K-Wing," Poe added with a twinkle in his eyes and prayer on his lips, "gotta say, this is one hellovat craft. I mean… I would say it's frickin' overkill, but that's suggesting that's a bad thing!"

"Poe, there is no such thing as overkill," Finn chuckled, "you either bring enough firepower to get the job done, or you don't. It's that simple."

"Not a piece of junk, then?" Rey asked with a smirk.

"As you said, unique," Finn concluded.

On que, something sounding like a purr radiated from their front, and the two men turned very slowly and very cautiously with raised eyebrows to the parked Raptor.

"Ummm…" Poe said as he fixed Rey a look. To this, she simply shrugged.

"So, are we taking off now, or…" Finn started, but Rey shook her head.

"I need to install a few parts before we go. Care to give me a hand?"

* * *

 _Can I ask you something?_

Rey coughed out a puff of soot, her face and arms liberally drenched in machine oil as she was half buried into the belly of the engine compartment.

"Um… sure? Hand me that syphoner, will you?"

He did, and waited a bit before he asked, _You're a Jedi, right?_

"Um… yes? I did levitate a couple of mugs and coffee pots, afterall."

 _And levitating mugs and coffee pots isn't the full extent of what you can do, right?_

She stopped, pulled herself out, removed her goggles and fixed the droid a curious look.

"What are you getting at?"

 _Well, it's quite simple, missy,_ BB-8 rested his arms on what would count as his hips, _I hear you Jedi can pancake people. Why didn't you pancake Big Mama back in the Inflictor?_

"Oh…" she mused and shrugged, "um… it's a little complicated."

 _Nothing complicated in pancaking a big monster._

"Actually, yes there is. I told you, I have to maintain a low profile."

 _But I was the only thing there capable of flabbing! So, what's the problem? What, you just had to try to beat up that thing with a stick? A stick that you unscrewed for some reason?_

"Why am I getting the feeling people would want to smack you for being too observant?"

' _Cause I ain't got no time for people's tall-tales!_ BB-8 puffed out his chest, _I leave that for Poe to do!_

"Heh, I imagine. Well, it's quite simple. For the past three years, I have been hunted by everything you can possibly imagine. I have been shot at, blown up, and nearly eaten on **two** occasions!" she jutted out her fingers to emphasise her point, "But worst of all? I've had red-blades on my tail."

 _The Knights of Ren?_

"I dunno. Never stopped long enough to ask. Either way, I couldn't afford to be attracting their attention again."

 _So wait, you're saying that using your mighty-fine super powers… attracts them?_

"At least the ones specialized in tracking Jedi. Think of them like… hunting dogs."

 _What about when you made your dramatic, 'Hey, I'm a Jedi, everybody!' entrance?_

"I… don't know. It was a calculated risk, and considering we were leaving anyway…"

 _Point taken. Then again, s'all good anyway. Got to burn me some bugs,_ the droid chirped smugly, _nothing quite like burning some bugs._

"You're kind of scary, you know that?"

' _Course I am! Wouldn't want it any other way!_

"You ever wonder if this is the reason you can't get with that girl you keep talking about?"

BB-8 stared at her for a long moment, his eye lenses narrowing as he jutted an arm her way.

 _Shaddup, missy. I am the droid of R2-KT's dreams! She just don't know it yet!_

Rey threw him a mocking smile, and he threw his arm at her again.

 _I said shaddup!_

"I didn't say anything!"

 _You're probably making loose-wire jokes behind my back when I ain't looking!_

"Oh great, I guess I can add paranoid to delusional with a slice of sudden moodiness. And that's just redundant!"

BB-8 growled and pulled out his plasma torch.

 _You know what ain't redundant? Barbeques._

Suddenly, the floating droid was sent flying into a wall. As he recovered himself, he glared at the oil-drenched Jedi, who had her palm extended with a playful smile on her lips.

"Don't mess with me, BB. I will **pancake** you with extreme prejudice."

 _Nobody but Kay-Tee gets to call me Bee-Bee!_ He exclaimed.

"Too bad. It's cute, and I like it."

BB-8 shook his clenched claw at her.

 _I'm gonna get back at you… somehow!_

She crossed her arms smuggly.

"And I look forward to seeing you try, BB."

Suddenly, Poe was at the door.

"Hey Rey, we got a serious problem."

Rey shot up like a board, "What? What's wrong with my girl?"

"Well, I was poking around in the cockpit, and the flight-control module is missing."

"What!?" she exclaimed, "I worked six months to get that piece alone! I installed it there last week!"

"Yeah well, it's gone and we ain't going nowhere!"

"Show me."

And with that, the three of them took off down the hexagonal halls of the Raptor. Tight as they were, the ship had been carefully built with the purpose of fitting as much as possible into a confined space, and to that end it was efficient. Truthfully, the aesthetics of the ship itself were far more tailored towards the efficient side than they were for splendor or style. The walls were jammed full of vents, cables and quick-access panels. Normally, a ship of this class would have all of this buried beneath several layers of deckplatting, but those had been stripped a long time back. Ease-of-access outweighed the tackiness of it.

They darted past multiple ladders, blast doors, and eventually through the main body of the ship. The hallway was wider, meant for two people to cross at shoulder distance, and considering the half dozen room sealed away by deck doors on either side of them, it did make the most amount of sense. Rey casted them a passing glance as they passed them, a sudden but momentary sharp pain stabbing her in the kidneys. However, before any bitter and sweet memories could come up, she buried them immediately. She would have time for that later.

Finn was up ahead, about to cross over the threshold. With no time to explain, she pushed him aside with the Force as gently as possibly.

"Sorry," she said as entered the cockpit. It was wide compared to the rest of the ship, with varying panels and view ports, multiple swivel chairs built into the deck floors. She quickly moved past the hatch leading down to the chin turret, and moved into the piloting chair. Suspended above the canopy, her hands worked through the flight control system until she found what she was looking for. There, in the heart of the system, was where the flight-controlling chip should have been. Instead, there were only torn wires.

Rey gritted her teeth, a snarl escaping them as she slammed her fist into the metal plating. The ship grumpled at that, and she immediately soothed its hull.

"So, got any idea who'd be jacking parts?" Poe asked grimly.

Rey nodded, and sighed bitterly.

"Yeah… I do."

She pulled at her concealed holster, and drew her blaster, checking it. Then she grabbed her staff and shouldered it across her back. Poe nodded, checking his own blaster as he called to his droid, "BB-8, you stay with the ship. I don't want nobody coming in here and jacking our ride while we're gone."

"That goes for you too, Poe."

"Wait, what?"

"Poe, there's a very good chance we'll have to blast our way out of here. Stay with the ship, and get her ready to take off."

"Rey, without that module, we ain't going nowhere."

"I know, but get ready anyway," and she left before he could argue, "I'll get the part! Just get her ready!"

Now in her way was Finn.

"I'm coming with you," he said, his brow furrowing, "and I'm not going to argue the point."

"Fair enough," she nodded, and the two of the quickly exited the hangar with as much haste as possible. They pushed through the crowd, dodging past through markets and streets. With the finish line within a hair's breadth, subtlety went out the window. Ultimately, they paid the price for it as the pair of them stormed in without an honest care for what awaited them.

"Zuvio!" Rey growled as she drew her sidearm and brushed past the red velvet drapes, her blood pumping like a drum in the deep, "You backstabbing swindler! Get out here before I-"

She found a blaster in her face.

"Or what, scavenger scum?" an imperious voice sneered at her, "You'll do what, exactly?"

She looked past the cold steel finish of the barrel, up the white polymer body and into the cold eyes of FN-2145, Junior Class Lieutenant of the First Order Stormtrooper.

"L-Tee," Finn breathed in cold, unresponsive shock; frozen still in place as all around them white armorclad soldiers closed in. In moments, their weapons were confiscated, and stood apart on either sides of the stuffy room with blasters trained on them. Rey cursed her carelessness. Had she not been in such a hurry, she might've actually sensed before they'd blundered into a trap.

"Eighty-Seven," L-Tee stated, almost as though he were reading it off of a logistics form, as he squared up his one-time non-com. He shook his head, and then struck the trooper hard in the stomach. Though Finn had been mentally preparing for the strike, the viciousness of it was staggering. His breath exploded from his mouth in a spray of spidle, his body bending over and nearly collapsing were it not for the troopers holding him steady. L-Tee nodded once, and one of the troopers kicked in his knee, causing him to drop hard to the metal-grate floor.

"Eighty-Seven," L-Tee repeated as he knelt to eye level with Finn, the contempt now blazing like a forge in his arctic blue eyes, "it's good to see you again… traitor."

"Just shoot me and be done with it," Finn whispered as he hung his head, "I won't hold that against you."

"Hold that against me?" L-Tee snorted, "You have a lot of nerve saying that, traitor. After you betrayed everything that we stood for. Everything that **your** squad died for. And… and you have the gall to say that to me," he shook his head at him, "I don't know what to say to that."

Finn glared hard into his eyes, his hands clasping into fists.

"Just... do it," he growled, "do your duty and be done with it."

"Duty? DUTY!?"

Suddenly, L-Tee clocked the restrained Finn with the butt of his sidearm, blood pooling from his forehead as the officer struck him again and again.

"YOU SPEAK TO ME ABOUT DUTY!? YOU DARE!?" He then grabbed the back of Finn's head and lifted him up for their eyes to meet again, "You… I should kill you. I should kill you not as a soldier but as yet another of these filthy lowlife! I should make you pay for your treachery, and prove our loyalty to the First Order!"

"Then why don't you!?" Finn growled through a cracked lip, his teeth bared in a snarl.

"Because our," he caught himself, " **my** superiors want you alive! No doubt your public execution will be a far clearer message to any other desident who dare oppose us. That those who betray the glory of the Empire Reborn shall suffer the ultimate price."

"Then do it already," Finn snorted. That earned him another blow, this time a punch to the chest that made him gasp.

"Not until you tell me where your other conspirators are. We have the scavenger. Now, we need the pilot, and undoubtedly, the droid. They will all suffer the same fate as you."

Finn's eyes raged with sudden, uncontrollable anger as he tried to lash at the junior officer, but the hands holding him were firm.

"YOU LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS!" he shouted at him, "You have me! Me! I'm the one you want! She has nothing to do with this!"

"I disagree, traitor. The pitiful alien who runs this ramshackle of a town was quite specific about his information."

Rey's eyes bore into him, "What did you do to him?"

L-Tee looked at her disdainfully before he sighed and nodded. A pair of troopers went in the back, and out came the battered and bloodied frame of the former constable.

"Sorry kiddo," he wheezed through broken teeth as he dropped to his knees in front of her, "they beat'd it out of me."

"No less than alien scum like you deserve," a malicious smile cross the man's features, "humanity were chosen to rule the stars. To lead the rest of this pathetic galaxy to something greater. For who else will? You? You and your fellow's existence are little more than a plague upon the galaxy. A parasite! You build your fortunes off the backs of others, you steal and profit from the righteous, and what you cannot steal or beg for, you destroy. Just as your kind did during the Clone Wars."

"Dunno much 'bout that," Zuvio grinned at him, "never was much into politics."

The young fanatic shook his head at him, "You merely prove my point."

"No, I've merely proven that I don't give a damn for politics," Zuvio retorted, "I don't give a damn 'bout you or your stupid ideology, and its even more of a hoot when you realize that your entire posse is led by an alien."

A blow straight to the jaw sent the constable sprawling to the ground.

"Lord Demask is far more human than you'll ever dream to be. For while a man such as him toils to rebuild the glory of the Empire, you deal in scrap! You are as lowly as one can be!"

"I dunno," Rey said sarcastically, "dealing in scrap can't be any less noble than killing people who want to be left alone."

The officer laughed.

"Which brings us to you," he then strode forward and gripped her in his hands, his gloved fingers digging into her cheeks, "you. A woman with your grace and skill dealing with dirty vagabonds such as these. A waste upon your species."

"Funny," she eyed him cooly, "I could say the same about you."

A slap across the face was his reply, blood spilling from a loosened tooth which she promptly spat right into his uniform. He raised his hand to strike her again, but he stopped and smiled.

"A woman with your spirit would be a shame to waste. Your offspring would be fierce warriors, indeed."

Rey stared at him mortified. That was when Finn suddenly barked:

"You wanna know something?"

"And that is, traitor?" L-Tee about-faced, staring down at him.

Finn glared at the L-Tee, his eyes as cold as ice, "I made a promise that I wouldn't kill any of my fellow stormtroopers. That I would never take the life of my brothers and sisters. But I'm going to make an exception for you."

L-Tee laughed, "So says the man without a spine."

Finn laughed right back at him, "At least I'll die free."

"Free?" the officer scoffed, "What is this nonsense?"

"You don't even understand the meaning of the word, do you?" Finn shook his head at him, "I don't know what I am anymore. But I know what I'm not. I am not another number. I am not another faceless killer sent to murder children. I am a man. A man with a name. And maybe one day a man with a purpose that isn't decided for him. And that, L-Tee, is far more than you'll ever be. And if you dare lay another hand on her… I'll kill you."

Something snapped behind the young man's eyes. Something dark and twisted. Something that fueled the fires of his heart into a blazing forge. With fists, he struck Finn like a wild animal. Blow after blow, haphazard and without proper placement. Whatever form of discipline that had held him in check crumbled to ash as the air filled with the sound of sickening strikes.

"STOP!" Rey cried, "For pity's sake, stop!"

He however kept hitting the man… no, the traitor. Eighty-Seven no longer registered as a life. Instead, he was a thing to be rend. A thing to be torn asunder. It was not until he cracked a scar across Finn's eyebrow that one of his troopers suddenly caught his hand.

"SIR!" he shouted at him. The L-Tee turned and glared at the man with feral eyes.

"Unhand me, trooper."

"Sir," the trooper growled at him, "we have our orders. The Captain wants him alive. And traitor or not, he is still one of us!"

"YOU DARE DEFEND HIM!?" he screamed as he shoved the trooper away and drew his sidearm out of instinct.

The trooper stood his ground and drew his own weapon, though that was kept at battle-ready and most certainly not pointed at his superior officer, "From where I am standing, lieutenant, he's more deserving of respect than you are."

The officer narrowed his eyes.

"FN-2007, you will stand down immediately or you be dealt with accordingly."

He didn't move.

"I said stand down!" he shouted as he drew his weapon directly on the man's helmet.

"The Captain's orders outweigh yours, sir," the trooper replied coolly.

"Sevens," Finn groaned as he rose to his feet, his face bloodied, bruised and scarred, "stand down. I'm not worth it."

Sevens turned to look at him. Indeed, every man and woman there looked at him.

"Please," Finn said, "don't."

Sevens stared at him, then at the lieutenant, and finally nodded reluctantly. He stepped away, and the officer in turn lowered his sidearm.

"This…" L-Tee sighed, his voice sounding deflated, "this is what this man represents. A failure of the system. So long as he lives, we are compromised. So long as he breathes, the spark of insurrection will continue to grow. Others may even follow in his footsteps. Hold him as an example. No," he shook his head and drew his weapon onto Finn's forehead, "regardless of the Captain's orders, regardless of her idealism, he cannot be saved. He can only be put down like the traitor he is. I shall take responsibility for this necessity."

"Coward."

Everyone froze, and L-Tee spun around with renewed ire.

"What did you just say, scavenger scum!?"

"I said," Rey growled with gritted teeth, "you are a coward. You call Finn a traitor even when you're disobeying the orders of your superior. You've even lost the respect of your men. So, tell me, what does that make you if not a **coward**? If not a **traitor** yourself?"

L-Tee screamed as he struck Rey across the face with the butt of his blaster.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Finn screamed as he again tried to wrench himself free, "I'LL KILL YOU!"

"No," L-Tee growled as he turned back to him, "I will live, and you both will die! But not until we have what we need, and I'm going to beat it out you!"

That was when Finn felt it. Something… changed. A calm, a presence. Something alien and yet… familiar. He felt it only once before, when he'd been blinded back at the village.

It was then he understood. It was then he accepted it. It was then that he heard the softest of rattlings despite the furious rants of his former platoon. All around, the world started to shake. Tables and the objects on the tables started to bobble and move. It was as if he was in the epicenter of an earthquake and strangely, no one else seemed to notice.

As strange as that, a smile crossed his scarred lip.

"What are you smiling at?" L-Tee growled at him.

"You," Rey answered. The junior officer spun around with his weapon drawn.

"Something to say before you die, scavenger scum?"

"Yeah, I do," Rey replied. It was then that he noticed something strange. His weapon was getting… hotter? He could suddenly feel the heat through his gloves, the bite striking as his skin. The internal mechanism within was glowing to a fiery orange before his very eyes. Instinct told him to throw it away, but the strangeness of it held him stalk still and frozen. Rey smiled inwardly at him as she said:

"Boom."

Before anybody could breathe, blink or shuffle, the blaster exploded. It was as though a hand grenade had gone off in the officer's hand. A fiery explosion rocked the room as the tibana gas within the ammunition storage was ignited with such heat that the literal type half of its owner was vaporized in a nanosecond. Hot shards of molten metal were sent flying everywhere at supersonic speed. Though the stormtroopers armor protected them, those hit were still indeed hit by a figurative freight train and were sent rocking down to the floor.

Those who weren't were those quick enough to take cover. At the end of the loud cacophony, only one stood amidst the ruin. And she was entirely unscaved.

"Jedi!" someone shouted, "She's a Jedi!"

"Yup," a proud smile crossed her lips as replied, "I am!"

With that, she threw her hands outward, and everything not bolted down was sent flying. Troopers were struck all around them with everything from tables to electrical tools. However, the effect was only momentary, and a half dozen troopers rose with their weapons raised. But in the seconds she had, Rey reached around and grabbed her staff.

"Drop it, Jedi!" someone shouted. Suddenly half of the staff, unscrewed from the body, flew out like a discus and struck the lead trooper with such force that the helmet cracked and splintered.

"Open fir-" but it was too late. An amber fire erupted from half of the staff still held in Rey's hand. It was no mere rod of metal. It was a specialized variant of the lightsaber: a saberpike. Before fingers could depress triggers, Rey called upon the Force and moved with supernatural speed. She became a literal whirlwind of fire, a blur to the mind's eye. So fast she moved, that even their helmets' automated targeting systems could not track her.

Within the span of nano-seconds, the raised blaster rifles were struck with sudden, precise strikes. The blade slashed through them, cutting them in two until all six troopers were left weaponless. Rey rose, her meter long staff held in the crook of her arm as she eyes them intently.

"Surrender now, and I won't harm you."

"To hell with you, Jedi!" a trooper shouted as she drew her sidearm. Rey however disarmed the trooper with a deft stab before hurling her across the room with an extension of her palm. Other troopers moved in, hoping to close in and grab her before she could swing the blade at them. Some drew blasters, others drew vibro-knives.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Rey muttered as she moved again, flipping over them in a somersault. Her blade struck with incomprehensible blurs, each trooper taking a hit in the shin, the shoulder and the hands. Some fell, their armor scorched through whole, while others stepped away to clutch at their wounds. Rey took advantage of the situation to send the lot of them flying to join their fellow. She then spun around when something crackled with electricity: a trooper with a stun baton.

She smiled at him, and drew her weapon high over her head like she was about to hurl a javelin. The trooper did not wait for an invitation. He swung his weapon wide, aimed at her torso. Rey however struck forward with the staff, redirecting the blow downward before she spun round to send him flying forward while she clubbed him with the backend of her weapon. The trooper staggered forward, taking only a moment to right himself before he charged like a mad bull. He struck forth, but Rey countered with a deft stab.

The blades gravitational currents that held the energy within crackled and fused together momentarily, but it was enough for the trained Jedi duelist. She used to it swing the baton wide in a downward half arc before swinging upward again to slice off the troopers hand. Before the trooper could even react to the sudden loss of a limb, he too was sent hurling away like a ragdoll. Rey then felt something move behind her, and as she spun, three more troopers rose with their weapons raised. One was carrying a heavy blaster cannon.

The weapon blasted off a cyclic rate of fire, dozens of rounds blasting forth in a second's span followed by more. Rey raised her weapon like a quarterstaff, and began spinning it in blurring arcs like motor blades. Bolts struck the amber arcs one after the other, flying off in all directions. However, the power of the blaster fire was forcing her backwards, and the troopers pressed their advantage, splitting off to catch her in a crossfire. Rey gritted her teeth, and continued spinning her blade to catch the incoming fire now coming at her from three directions.

Then one trooper produced a flash grenade. However, before he could prime it, a war cry bellowed from the back of the room. The point man looked, but was too late. The stun baton struck him hard in the faceplate, the electrical currents stunning the man even through his armor. He dropped his weapon from his still hands. Finn caught it, his thumb instinctively going for the selector switch. The weapon went from kill to stun, and before the trooper with the heavy blaster could move, a blue arc struck him in the torso.

The man's muscles froze as his nervous system was overloaded. Nerve synapses were halted, and the man became as stiff as a board. As he toppled however, the other man was on him and firing. Finn rolled forward, his thumb switching it back to kill, and he fired off a shot. The round struck the weapon and melted it in two. Finn then rose with his weapon extended in a proper combat grip, the trooper holding his hand in pain.

"Eighty-Seven," the trooper breathed, almost pleadingly. Finn shook his head.

"You're going to tell the Captain what happened here. You're going to tell her not to come after me. That my actions are of my own choosing, and that I am not worth hunting. I am not worth the lives it would cost to kill me."

The trooper nodded.

"And Sevens?" Finn put the weapon back onto stun, "Thank you."

And with that, the trooper fell to the ground unconscious. Finn sighed, his shoulders slumping over with the sudden realization of what happened and what would happen because of it. There was no mistaking it now. He was an enemy of the First Order, and there would be no coming back from that. And yet, deep in his heart, he knew what he had done had been right. And in this, he accepted it.

"So," the cracked voice of Zuvio echoed from behind him, "that's your secret, then?"

Rey deactivated her blade and shouldered it, levitating the extra part over to her hand and putting it in her belt, "Yes."

"Figures," Zuvio smiled before he waddled over to a drawer, and pulled something out. He tossed it at Rey, who caught it in midair and levitated it to her hand, "I'm sorry, kiddo. They made me pull the plug on most of the ships here, wantin' to ground y'all."

"There's nothing to apologize about, Zuvio," Rey replied, guilt heavily in her voice, "I brought all this. I… I always do."

"Mebbe, but it ain't 'bout what you brought with you but what you do with it. And lemme tell you, I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you. So wipe that sour look off your face, and you get the hell off this rock."

"No, you're coming with us."

"Jakku is my home! It's always been, and I ain't leaving! Not least for these," he then cursed a sentence in his native tongue at the prone men.

"They'll kill you."

"Don't care. I've lived long enough," he then reached into his drawer again and tossed a bag their way, "here, it's all the cred I've owed ya. You take it and you get out of here, and you never come back. You understand?"

"What about you?"

"Damnit, Rey! Don't worry about this ol' git! You get yourself and your man outta here! And that's final!"

Something loud and eery like the sound of a banshee suddenly roared overhead, bringing with it an air current that shook the ground.

"GO, DAMN YOU!"

Finn grabbed Rey by her shoulder and they ran out the entrance. Zuvio chuckled to himself as they went.

"Figures a gal like her would end up with a guy like him. Sweet that way, I suppose. Ah well," he then plucked the heavy blaster cannon from the ground, and cradled it in his hands, "time to get even."

And with that, he went out the back where he knew more troopers were coming into town. Though he didn't last very long, he went out with a smile.


	17. Chapter 14 - Flight of the Rapter

**Chapter 15 - Flight of the Raptor**

* * *

 **Jakku**

 **Niima Outpost**

* * *

Guilt struck sharply into Rey's heart as all around her the streets of Niima descended into warfare. It would have been foolish to assume that Finn's former platoon were the only Troopers in the vicinity, or that they hadn't called in backup the moment a Jedi had been identified. Barely seconds after they cleared Zuvio's office and were back on the street, they were already getting shot at. Red, blue and green blaster bolts were being traded from every possible direction as an ear splitting alarm blazed in the background.

 _Attention!_ the tired voice of Zuvio echoed from the intercom system distributed throughout the outpost, _Attention! First Order Stormtroopers have entered the outpost! Stay in your homes an' arm yourselves! All militia, regroup at your rendezvous points an' prepare to engage the enemy!_

The sound and instructions however were lost over the roar of battle. Stormtroopers were moving through the streets in fireteams of four, engaging in small street skirmishes and coordinating movement between teams as they slowly began pressing in on all sides. While some of the militia had managed to move out to begin shooting at them from whatever cover they could find, most of the shots were coming from the panicked hands of the outpost denizens themselves.

"Get down!" Finn shouted as he tackled Rey to the sandy floor. Just as he did, a firefight enraged above their heads. Shopkeepers and others on one side flipping tables and other pieces of cover, shooting wildly at the Stormtroopers; who were still a good street away.

"Who taught these people how to shoot!? They're likely to get us killed more than the troopers!" Finn cursed as more shooting passed over their heads. Out of the two, the Stormtroopers were by far the more accurate shooters. Though there were considerably more of the outpost denizens and militia, the Troopers had training and discipline. They provided accurate covering fire while their fellows slowly but surely advanced forward, dodging from cover to cover. Worse for some of the denizens, their cover only provided concealment, and once identified the Troopers tore them apart.

Bodies and blasted objects were falling all around them, and now the Troopers had spotted them. Just as Finn was drawing his weapon, Rey grabbed his arm and reached out the other. In an instant, the Force pulled them along a good twenty or so feet, tethered along by a stout pole. The moment they hit it, they got to their feet and started running. Rey had her saber out and Finn his blaster rifle, expecting trouble around each bend as they ducked and dived between the frantic fighting.

Then, just as they rounded another corner they ran into a fireteam bombing out a market cluster, blasting it apart with detonators and other explosives. The audio receptors in their helmets somehow had managed to pick up their footfalls from the much louder background noises, and they all spun around with their weapons drawn. With no time to think, Rey activated her saber and in split-seconds began defecting blaster fire. This time, however, Finn had closed in behind her, his own weapon ready. Much of his training had involved observing the history of the previous wars, especially the Clone Wars. As such, he was very familiar with the tactics developed between Clone Troopers and their Jedi Commanders.

To this end, when Rey presented an opening, Finn took it. As she deflected blaster fire, the bolts going away in random directions, Finn would rise and fire off a stun bolt. The armor absorbed some of the effects of the bolts, so it took two or three to do the trick. As the front row fell, the other two tried to disengage. Rey however was quicker on the draw, and used it as an opportunity to throw a telekinetic blast their way and send them flying.

No sooner than they did, more teams converged on their location. Someone with a heavy blaster opened up on them as they dived down an alleyway. Finn fired over his shoulder, keeping them back a few more seconds before they came after them again. Now they were running through homes, shops and dispensers, pushing people out of the way as they ran for all they were worth. Fortunately, the Troopers maintained trigger discipline and didn't try to shoot at them through the crowd, so it afforded them some time to stay ahead of them.

Rey tried desperately to keep her senses up, but the sea of fear all around her was practically choking her. People crying out in terror as their homes were torn apart by mindless, unending violence. So instead, she focused on what was ahead.

"Finn, the archway!" she pointed with her saber.

"Got it!" and began shooting at it until it began to crack and crumble. As it did, Rey grabbed Finn and rushed forward in a leap, zipping past the falling adobe as it crashed into the ground with a heavy billow of dust. Still, the two of them began pulling down more of the superstructure, or shooting them free, respectfully, until the street was completely blocked off.

"It won't hold them long," Finn said.

"Long enough. C'mon!"

Then they heard it. A loud shriek like a banshee in the night zooming overhead. Explosions were rocking in the background as the menacing form of a TIE Punisher began dropping its payload. Bombs by the dozens were reducing target zones to craters and rubble. Now, it turned around and was coming right at them!

"RUN!"

A pod opened, and micro-munitions of missiles began chasing the pair of them as they disappeared into a marketplace. The cover was barely meager, but the Punisher soon zoomed away, dropping a few more explosives before it disappeared from the battlefield.

* * *

" _Punisher Blue to all ground forces, munitions are dry. I am making a supply run-"_

 _"2-5 to 1-3, we are taking fire from the roof-"_

 _"Alpha, keep your heads down! I'm making a-"_

 _"This is 3-1, we've lost contact with objective! We need eyes on target! Over!"_

 _"1-1, we are approaching from north. ETA, 2 mikes!"_

From his commanding position within the control room of the _Ravager_ , Hux's face contorted into a stony expression as his ears took into the blaring, overlapping comm. lines, and his eyes watched the overhead feed of the chaos on the ground. Multiple images of various feeds filtered around the holographic projector, focusing in on the more important actions. To most, it was disorienting. But to the Admiral, who had fought in ground and space engagements numbering in thousands of combatants, it was surprisingly calming.

"1-1, this is Ravager!" a coordinating deck officer called out on the feed, "Hold your position! We have a large number of contacts coming your way! 15 yards out and closing!"

 _"Punisher Red to Ravager, I am approaching the combat zone. ETA, thirty seconds. Requesting target package, over."_

 _"This is 2-5! We are pinned down by militia! We cannot move!"_

 _"Ravager, this is 1-3, I have lost contact with 1-4! I need feed confirmation, over!"_

 _"3-1, 3-2, approach gamma 34 o' 1 and take control of the market, over!"_

 _"Ravager, this is 2-1. We are approaching the hangar zone. Requesting any available assistance to take the objective, over!"_

 _"This is 3-1! We've reacquired target! Requesting feed display on their movements!"_

As a new overhead screen zoomed in on the western section of the outpost, the air suddenly chilled. Hux turned, and Kylo Ren entered the control room abruptly, stopped and stared right at the feed.

"Admiral, can you provide a clearer image on the targets?"

Hux bellowed an order, and a technician began zooming in on the battlefield, frame by frame until the feed was at a twenty foot magnification. Slowly, very slowly, Kylo approached the holographic table, his hands clasping the edges as his gaze locked onto a woman carry a saber pike and the traitor, FN-2187. Closing in fast was the four man fireteam 3-1, firing rounds at them while the two targets were waging a fighting retreat. FN-2187 was firing over his shoulder while the Jedi threw tables and other objects their way, both generally slowly the team down.

 _"3-1, this 3-2! We are approaching from your 9 o'clock! Ravager, we request feed on targets to coordinate with 3-1, over!"_

"Roger, 3-2," an operator at the helm said, "feed is being-"

"Pull them back."

Everybody stopped and turned to stare at the Lord of Ren, who turned to Hux and commanded in a grave tone, "Admiral, pull your teams back."

"Son, we can handle a lone Jedi-"

"Not this one," he countered, his tone sharp, "if your men continue to chase them, she'll kill them eventually. Pull them back, now."

Hux stared long and hard into the obsidian visor of Kylo's helm, somehow seeing his eyes beneath them. Begrudgingly, he nodded and pointed to an operator.

"3-1, 3-2, disengage from target and maintain sight-line distance. Acknowledge, over!"

 _"Roger. Disengaging, over!"_

As the Troopers slowed, the pair of them disappeared into a large market before coming out and approaching a large cylindrical building.

"Thank you, Admiral," Kylo said as he about-faced, "tell the flight crews to prepare my shuttle. I will deal with this personally."

However, before he even could get a foot past the blast-door, one of the flight personnel gestured over to the XO, who in turn gestured to the Admiral.

"Sir, we have an unauthorized takeoff in progress. Security teams are attempting to ground the craft."

 _Again?_ Hux thought. Before he could asked who, security imagery of the hangar bay revealed a TIE-Defender attempting to take off, but gravitational locking cables were preventing it from escaping. After the last time, the hangar crews had ensured no one could hijack another fighter craft.

"Phasma," Kylo said as he turned around and stood at the Admiral's shoulder to stare at the feed, "What is she doing?"

The Admiral smiled, "Her duty. Ensign, signal the Traffic Controllers to authorize her flight. It's time for her to go hunting."

* * *

She should have been on the ground. She had insisted on the matter, but the Admiral had pointed out that she was too close to the situation. That her judgement would be affected by her own personal motivations. Politely, she had argued that she was responsible for the actions of her Troopers. The Admiral quietly retorted that if she had to chase down every single trooper who misperformed their duty, then she wouldn't be able to perform her own. No, it was a task best given to the platoon commanders on the ground to bring in the traitor and his other compatriots.

There was truth in those words, Phasma knew. Of course, the Admiral was correct. He often was, and Phasma still owed the Old Man her life. But there was an unspoken truth between them, a secret kept buried for almost a decade by those involved. FN-2187 was not the first renegade Stormtrooper in their history, nor was he even the most severe.

A decade ago, rebellion on a much larger scale had nearly torn the First Order in half.

 _"Captain,"_ the comm. in her flight helmet buzzed, _"your flight has been authorized. The Admiral says 'Good hunting.'"_

Phasma pulled a face and nodded to herself, "Thank you."

A decade ago, she had lost so many of her children. A decade ago, she'd lost a friend… a brother.

"Cardinal," she whispered, biting back reactionary tears as her hands gripped the controls with ice cold fingers. She would not allow history to repeat itself. Never.

She pushed the throttle down, the Defender roaring out of the hangar with subsonic speed. In seconds, she was heading towards the planet. A strange feeling came over her. A familiarity in her hands and her mind, which was suddenly paired with both guilt and joy.

It had been a very long time since she'd flown a fighter craft, but it felt almost like yesterday that she was operating with a squadron of commandos.

"Inferno," she whispered in reverence; nostalgic pains and joys coming to her mind in equal measure. Only the blaring info-screens and noises associated with them keeping her from falling into some nostalgic trance. No, she had a job to do. She shook away the memories, and focused with renewed concentration.

"Ground units, this is Captain Phasma. I am approaching the target area. Requesting update on combat stream, over."

It was time to hunt.

* * *

The bolt nearly took off Finn's head.

"Hey!" he shouted as he ducked behind cover, "It's just us!"

"Sorry!" Poe shouted back at them, "Whole lot of shooting out there, what's going on?"

Quick updates were made as they boarded the Raptor. Quickly, Poe slipped into the cockpit while Rey inserted the Flight Control Module. There was a sudden explosion as the door to the small docking bay was caved in and Stormtroopers started to swarm in.

"Finn, gunner position, now!" Poe shouted, "Rey, co-pilot, strap in. I'm taking us outta here!"

Normally, he would have taken a handful of minutes to perform a standard checklist, and maybe have Rey do a twice over the engine compartment just in case if it was going to fall off during takeoff. But now with crimson bolts pinging off his armor, he couldn't afford to be proper or fancy. Basics would have to do.

Poe began flicking switches and turning on the onboard power generators. As power flowed through the ship, The Raptor suddenly roared like an uncaged lion as it reverberated with gravitational pressure. Hull lamps and illuminators flared to life, casting red and orange glows against its faded green hull. The onboard anti-grav thrusters kicked into life, the wings flaring outward as with a roar, it lifted from the ground and turned about like a dragon ready engulf its prey in fire.

"Damn, this thing is sensitive!" Poe exclaimed in exasperation as he began working with the strange controls. It wasn't just a single joystick in the center of his control panel. It was a pair of them on either side of him for his two hands to hold, and even foot pedals down at the bottom. Poe had piloted almost every kind of fighter in the galaxy, and he called upon those experiences because quite frankly he had never flown something like this before.

The result was that even the slightest miscalculation in pressure caused the ship to veer left or right and scrap the sides of the stone superstructure, or go too high or low and crash into something else.

"Don't you dare hurt my baby!" Rey screamed at him, panting.

"Hey, tell your baby to work with me-whoa!"

Suddenly, his seat slid forward into the bubble cockpit until he had nothing but glass underneath his feet.

"Um, was it supposed to do that?"

"Yes! Now get us out of here before you crash us!"

"Hey, I don't crash ships! From what I heard, you do!"

"One more word and I will spear you through this seat!"

"Yeah, and you'll have to fly this by yourself-gah!" now the Stormtroopers were shooting at the cockpit itself. The armor glass was holding, but if they got something heavier, they would be in trouble.

"Rey, shields!"

"Got it!"

Quickly, she started booting up internal systems through an automatic looping frequency. Weapons, shielding, automated sensors, even air conditioning. Although the latter only spat a fine spray of red sand everywhere. The ship seemed to growl at that, and Rey stroked its metal hide comfortingly.

"Easy, girl. Easy."

Across the way, Finn was running through the hallways, grabbing onto the sides as the ship seemed to rock and croon like a drunken vagabond on a high moon. He could feel the sudden sharp vibrations as the ship started running into things and things were shooting at them.

"Um, Poe? What are you doing?" he called up.

"I'm improvising! Gimme a break!"

Finn shook his head, and moved down to where the underbelly gunner position was. However, the hatch was magnetically sealed.

"Rey, gun door!" and with that, the hatch hissed open and a ladder descended from above. Quickly, he climbed down and strapped himself in. Lights flickered on as the bubble platted turret was still enclosed in the ship. Then a warning red light came on and the hatch suddenly sealed him in with the hiss of hydraulics. Pressure suddenly changed and for a moment, Finn felt dizzy.

However, this did not concern him. Although not a fighter jockey, he could guess that the sealed bubble turret possessed its own internal gravity. That much was confirmed when his seat turned him upside down, but he didn't feel any different. No blood rushing through his head. Just a normal displacency. A moment after this, the metal belly of the craft seperated, and the turret slid through into daylight and into an array of fire.

"Finn, get these bucketheads off my back!" Poe's voiced echoed from a headset which he quickly put on. Gun controls sprang forward, and fortunately these looked like they'd been taken straight from a TIE variant. A pair of laser cannons unfolded from in front of him, and now he had his own kin in his gunsights. Finn grumbled darkly. He had swore he would not kill his own, and now fate or the Force or whatever was testing that promise.

Still, he couldn't let them shoot them down, and with several fireteams now bringing over heavy weapons, he went into action. He aimed above them, and began firing into the docking bay's stone superstructure itself. Stone, dirt and blasted metal showered all around them in fine sprays, forcing the Troopers either back or down into cover. However, the Raptor did not make this easy as Poe struggled with highly sensitive controls, forcing Finn constantly swivel and turn just to keep a proper sight line as the Raptor bucked and josted all over the place.

At the cockpit, alarms rang out every few seconds, and Rey more than once had to hop out of her seat to grab an extinguisher when something was a getting too hot for her taste, or a tightener when steam shot out of some vent. Ahead, Poe was cursing like a madman as he had to learn to balance simple movements with the most precise of hand-gestures.

"How the blazes did you folks fly this thing!?"

"Very carefully."

"Yeah, real funny."

"Guys!" Finn called through the comm.'s, "We got company in bound! I'm not going to be able to keep them back much longer!"

Poe shook his head, and a tight smile crossed his exasperated face.

"Blast it. You wanna learn how to swim, jump in."

"What?" but before Rey could ask further, a great surge of G-force rocked her right back into her seat as Poe took them up with blinding acceleration. The Raptor ripped right through the canopy cover, and with wings spread wide, it roared across the windswept and bombed out battlefield with a loud screech.

"Finally, some elbow room," Poe chuckled as he took the craft one way and then the next, taking the time necessary to at least have a grasp of how to meanuever with the complicated controls. He flew one way and the next, the sheer pressure of the craft engines sending everything not bolted down flying in their wake. He passed by over the outpost once, and then twice. On the second flight, all three of the Repator's crew got a good look at the situation deteriorating on the ground.

A group of militia had been caught, forced out in the open and now surrounded by advancing Stormtroopers. Rey's heart felt torn asunder as she watched them being gunned down by faceless killers in a desperate struggle. She'd known many of them, some better than others. And at the center was her former boss, who was now slugging it out amid a sea of choking corpses. Soon enough, he was the last one standing.

Zuvio was screaming. Rey could feel this. His pain and anger all molded together into one long cacophony as he took bolt after bolt but refused to drop. He traded rounds amid his curses and screams, dropping a Trooper, followed by another. Then he was struck in the chest and he fell to his knees, his pain almost driving him mad.

Then he started laughing.

"I'm still here, huh? I'm still kneelin'! That all you got, You bloody wannabes!?" then he began cursing the Troopers in a dozen different tongues. The Raptor loomed overhead in that moment, and he smiled up at the avian like craft.

"Get on and get, girl," Rey heard him say before a Trooper walked up behind him and summarily execute him with his sidearm. She felt the impact, the fierce fire burning through the back of her mind, and the sudden chillness of death. Her body slackened, her eyes widened, her skin paled like a ghost. Poe saw every detail, and he snarled.

"Finn, forgive me, buddy," he shouted into his mike, "but this's gone on enough!"

Weapon systems went online. With ice cold hands, Poe targeted the assembled platoon below, and opened fire. Laser cannons and repeaters on either side of the cockpit went hot, and within milliseconds, hundreds of cyclic crimson bolts rained from the heavens and tore into the Troopers. Many shot straight through, others blasted them away into fine char. Some managed to retreat back into the marketplace, taking cover where they could. Poe wasn't finished, however, and zoomed after them. Bolts tore through the adobe and scrap metal housing, and Poe launched missiles at the stronger of the buildings just for good measure, reducing them to blasted cinder.

Then alarms went off, and before he knew it, they were hit. A missile struck them on the aft side, the resulting orange explosion throwing them forward hundreds of yards before the ships onboard stabilizers brought them back into focus.

"Poe, bombers incoming!" Finn shouted up at them, and Poe gritted his teeth. With a swiveling gesture, the Raptor swung round to face its attackers. A pair of TIE Punishers were coming at him, their weapon systems primed. In the split second he had, Poe checked his shields. He was down to 78%, and the onboard computer reported no substantial damage caused.

"Must've hit us with a concussive," Poe muttered, "weren't expecting me to be fighting back," he smiled inwardly, "okay, let's play."

With this, he slammed his controls forward, and the Raptor took off like a rocket. He turned his right hand up and his left hand down, causing the craft to start whirling like a cyclone as he opened up with the laser cannons. The Punishers dived left and right as the Raptor tore past them, their own shields fluttering from the sudden exchange. However, they quickly zipped back around and began firing a clutter of missiles. Poe immediately brought his hands forward and down, causing the nose to dive and within seconds he was flying close to the ground.

Behind him, Rey started flipping switches before a green light came on.

"Hold off on the flares," Poe said, "let them get close."

"How close?" she asked, struggling to keep the panic out of her voice. Behind them, the missiles approached with frightening speed, charging towards them like dragonflies.

"Wait for it… wait for it."

Fifty meters and closing, the onboard computer displayed, thirty meters and-

"NOW!" and with that, he swung the controls upward, his feet pedals firing off afterburners and sending The Raptor flying up and over the flight trail of the missiles. Flares sprouted from everywhere and rained down either in front or right in the midst of the incoming missiles. When one exploded, the rest followed suit, and The Raptor zoomed through the resulting fireball.

"My turn," and with that, he unclipped the safety pins on his controls. Missiles exploded from their tubes, zipping straight for the bombers even as Poe went between them at mach speed. The missiles struck home, the bombers not having the time to maneuver out of the way. Their shields buckled, flared and failed, and the two crippled bombers went down in a billow of smoke. Still, they'd been low enough to the ground that the impacts didn't completely rip the ships apart. The landed in the midst of the outpost, tearing long trails through the buildings and city streets before coming to rest towards the middle of the town.

Poe laughed, more relieved than anything else. Sweat poured down his temple in droves, but at least he wasn't bleeding. Still he couldn't resist turning in his seat and grinning over at Rey.

"This is one hellova ship! I'm keeping it!"

"Oh sure, how about you give me back ten years of my life while you're at it," she shook her head at him, panting as she did.

"Well, I can't give you years, but I'll think of someth-"

Suddenly, an emerald explosion erupted on top of them, and the Raptor swung towards the ground.

"No no no!" Poe screamed as he yanked the controls up and tried to pull the craft upward. The Raptor collided with the ground, nicking the wings and superstructure as it fought gravity all the way up. Sliding across the sand dunes for several seconds, Poe finally managed to bring them airborne again.

"What the hell just hit us!?" Rey cried out as Poe whipped his head around the cockpit.

"I can't see 'em! Where is he!?"

"Behind us!" Finn called out, "They're behind-"

A second and third explosion rocked the craft and Poe had to fight to keep them level. A loud screech rang out and a TIE Defender zoomed ahead and then up. A grave voice of a woman came on their intercom.

 _"This is Captain Phasma of the First Order. Ground your vessel now, or I will do it for you."_

Warning signs came up as a half dozen bogies suddenly appeared on his scanner.

"Oh you gotta be kidding me!" Poe cursed as he dove straight for the ground, the squadron of the TIE Strikers closing in fast.

* * *

In the Admirals life, he had known many fine and outstanding fighter pilots on both sides of the conflict. He'd even awarded a medal or two to most daredevil of the bunch. A part of him even wished he'd become a fighter pilot rather than the Captain of a Star Destroyer, but that was idle fantasy. Still, it did not diminish his fascination with the almost romantic bravery of dogfighting. It was like a gentleman's game in a way; a test of skill between two opponents on equal terms with the air as their battlefield.

For this, he watched the bird's eye display with the keenest fascination; settling into his commanding chair with his hands resting on his chin. Even the chilling presence of Kylo Ren at his shoulder wasn't enough to dim his spirits as he took in the battle with every possible detail. Naturally, the pilot Dameron would never have surrendered. Not certainly after he'd skillfully disabled the two TIE Punishers, and had lain waste to the forces on the ground in a rather cold fashion. The Grand Admiral shook his head.

It really was a pity that this Poe Dameron had not been born a Courscanti, and lived to fight at his side. He hated to kill such good men, but it was necessary, and the Admiral, just like the good Captain, would follow their duty to the letter.

 _"I repeat,"_ the Captain growled over the comm., her voice heavy in the action that was about to come as the squadron again strafed the strange looking ship with warning shots, _"ground your vessel or I will do it for you. This is your final warning."_

Dameron's response was expected, and the Admiral would have been disappointed if it hadn't been so.

 _"Come and try, ma'am."_

And with that, Dameron plunged his ship into a nosedive aimed straight for the ground. The Captain followed in his wake, firing bolts off his bow as the Strikers moved to the flanks like attacking hounds. Dameron swung left and right, crimson bolts coming out from under the ship in response. The attacks were rather clumsy, and clearly not Dameron's work. He doubted it could be the Jedi, and that left only the traitor, FN-2187. Still, traitor or no, it was a telling of the adaptability of his soldiery, and perhaps they would learn something from this experience.

The Strikers were now closing in, blasting bolts off and around the hull of ship. On command, they could ram the fugitives and bring them down, but that risked destroying any traces of the map. He admitted it presented a tactical disadvantage, and in a few moments, Dameron took full advantage of it. As the Strikers closed in, Dameron did the unexpected. He swung his vessel sideways, the belly of the vessel pointed to the right flanking Strikers.

Within seconds, the bow gun position tracked and successful brought down first the lead Striker, and then the second. The Strikers were travelling so close together that when the second one exploded, its debris collided with the third and tore it in half.

"Very good, Poe Dameron," the Admiral smiled, "now, what will you do next?"

His answer came when he swung left violently, cutting off the lead Striker and swiping it with his shielded wing. Part of the Strikers wing was seared clean through, and partially dragged it along until it crashed right into a high rising sand dune.

"Very good," the Admiral repeated. Already, they were learning something from this engagement, and doubtless the analyst would come to his conclusion that the programming of their droid ships were too… simple. Too predictable. Admiral was of the old era when men alone were at the helm of such craft, and as such disliked using these droids. It felt too… dispersonal, but he was nothing if not pragmatic. The First Order was hopelessly outnumbered and couldn't afford to lose good pilots.

Speaking of which, Dameron had now entered what the natives called the Graveyard of Giants. The Admiral frowned. Watching the feed, he felt a sudden cold. He knew many of the ships buried deep in these red sands, and their crews. Though not there in the person, the name was quite fitting as he felt the souls of those under his command reach out for him. The sudden report of activity quickly removed him from his trance, and he stared at the action with renewed interest.

Dameron had indeed flown into the Graveyard, and was using the fallen ships as cover. He dived between hulls and skeletons of corvettes and frigates, zipping back forth from the split remains of cruisers before diving up and down between dune and deckplatting. While the Strikers continued to doggedly chase Dameron through the tangled maze of metal, the good Captain had long since taken to perching on the outskirts, waiting for her opportunity.

"Good girl," the Admiral said, "you haven't lost your touch."

Now free of pursuit from actually intelligible hunters, Dameron and his crew were quick to dispatch the remaining two Strikers. First, he dove between a long, overhanging trench that forced the Strikers to split apart at the outskirts. As such, they came out ahead of Dameron, who in turn came out behind them. Within moments, he blasted the Striker on the right, and now was chasing the one on the left. The Striker took evasive action, diving and dipping, and all Dameron had to do was just pull back and wait.

In another moment, the Striker erupted in a massive fireball.

"Impressive," the Admiral said with a smile. Truly, if it had not been rather unbecoming, he would clap. Still, the fight wasn't over, and just as the blasted through the remains of the droid fighter, Captain Phasma struck. She moved in right ontop of them rather than behind as the Strikers had done, raining down fire from close range to where Dameron's gunner could not retaliate easily. Over and over again, Dameron evaded and zipped across the battlefield, desperately trying to disengage. Once, he even attempted to pull back on his throttle and come up behind the Captain, but she merely did the same and stayed right behind him.

Still, it was not long before Dameron finally managed to come up behind the Captain. He swung hard to the left, no doubt putting his dampeners to their fullest test. The Captain therefore was forced to overshoot him in a long arc, trying desperately to catch up with him. However, like a swooping hawk, Dameron descended upon her from the side, and engaged her with a combination of laser fire and missile barrages. Rather than attempting to outpace Dameron, Phasma slowed her inertia, and began bobbing side to side to use the debris around them as cover. One by one, the missiles struck these pieces of cover, and those that didn't she managed to hold off using flare reserve.

Now they were at it again. It was almost like a dance. The pair of them flew aside and forth, zipping over and under the other in their attempts to gain good positioning. Still, Dameron made good effort to stay on her tail, taking his turn to pelt her. Then the Captain did something unexpected. Every TIE variant was equipped with additional cargo held in the underslung hold, such as power cells and the like, and they could be remotely ejected. Phasma slowed till she was on the verge of crashing right into Dameron, and did just that.

The cargo sprayed out and struck Dameron's vessel at almost point black range. Though he doubted they would have done much, it was nonetheless stunning, and provided her with the opening to pull back, zip under Dameron and come up behind him. There, she unleashed a barrage of missiles that struck home and sent Dameron sprawling. Smoke appeared on the side of the ship; the shields flickering before come back up. Still, it was doubtful they could take much more.

His guess was correct as Dameron flew upward at a hard 85 degree angle, no doubt attempting to break atmosphere. Phasma pursued.

"Captain," Kylo Ren suddenly said, his message being relayed to her directly via the comm. feed, "there is a weakness in the ship's superstructure. With the shields weakened, you should be able to hit it with a precise Ion Torpedo. It will disable their engines and bring the ship down, over."

 _"Understood, my lord. Send me the target package, over."_

* * *

It had happened without warning. The targeting computer blared and screamed as yet another missile came at them. Poe believed that the ship's shields would hold just a little longer, but then to his horror realized what was coming at them. He tried to swerve away, but it was far too late. The torpedo struck, and everything flared with electricity before going dead.

"She's fried us," Poe said in horror as the Raptor flew another dozen or so feet, was held momentarily in the air, and then started falling back down to earth. The vessel spun nosewise, and by Poe's own guess, they would hit the ground in less than twenty seconds.

"Rey…" he began to say, but she was already out of her seat. The Raptor turned longways, nose pointed up to the sky. Rey crossed her arms over her chest and stood over the back of her chair. She took a moment to gauge the distance and her target, and then she leapt down.

"BB!" she called, and there was the droid down below. As she continued to fall down the hallways, BB-8 zoomed out to catch her. She held out her hands, and in a moment caught the top of the droid by his head. BB-8 locked his head into place, giving her the purchase she needed to perform a mid-air somersault. She came round, spun, and then flew down one of the passage ways. With the Force, she cushioned her landing, but the impact on the wall was still jarring.

15 seconds, she thought and gritted her teeth. She rolled down the wall and into the engine room. There, she continued to roll until she spotted an electrical line and grabbed at it. With the Force, she called to hand a few select tools, and kicked off the wall towards the main engine compartment. She landed with a thud, and there saw the main fuseline of the ship's power core.

12 seconds, she was in the fuseline. Everything was fried and burning. She plucked an extinguisher and cooled off the hotter parts. She worked through the melted coils, trying to find the main line.

"Rey!" she heard Poe call her way. She found it. The main connect line it was attached to was also fried, but the connecter itself was not and had prevented the main line from being damaged too much.

8 seconds, she would need to connect it to another line. Something to get power back online. She fished around and found the auxiliary line. Normally, she would switch over remotely, but that was impossible at this point. With gritted teeth, she plucked a switchblade between the connector, and pulled the mainline away.

6 seconds, the auxiliary line was fighting her. The ship was tumbling over and over, and the line was flying of her reach.

"REY!" Poe was now screaming. She pulled the line to her with the Force.

4 seconds, with a grunt, she forced the two lines together. The connecter didn't fit right. She had to pull them apart again.

3 seconds, she breathed, and then pushed the connectors smoothly together. Electricity flared out as auxiliary power kicked.

"NOW!" she screamed back, and Poe was on it. With a second to spare, and the ground a mere twenty feet away, Poe pulled hard on his throttle. The Raptor swerved up, but not before skidding the ground and leaving a long scar along the ships bow. Still, she could handle it, and Poe once again flew upwards with all the speed he could manage. He checked his instruments, and his heart sank. His shields were gone.

"Poe," Finn called in his comm., "we can't try flying out of here with the Captain on our tail. She'll just shoot us down again."

Poe bit his lip and cursed. He was right. They would need to either shake her, or better yet, disable her. But how?

"Rey, get up here. I've got a pl-"

Suddenly, an emerald shot across their bow and made their ship buckle.

"Report!" Poe called into his mike, "Is everybody okay!?"

"I'm alright!" Rey called as she came back into the cockpit with BB-8 in tow, "felt like it came from down below!"

"Finn, are you okay!?"

There was a momentary silence before Finn replied, _"She hit the turret. I'm stuck in a forward facing position. I can't move."_

"Not a problem, buddy," Poe answered with a grin, "I gotta plan."

"Plan?" Rey asked, confused, "What plan?"

"That plan," he nodded ahead. When Rey turned to look, her mouth dropped. It was The Finalizer, and Poe was orbiting in tandem with its opening through the middle of the ship.

"No," Rey shook her head desperately.

"Yes," Poe grinned wolfishly.

"No!"

"YES!" and with that pushed the throttle to the metal. The Raptor took off like a thunderbolt, slipping straight through the fetal wound of the Finalizer. The walls quickly closed in around them as they flew through engine compartments, flight decks and service centers. More than once, Poe jerked a little too hard on the controls and the Raptor would scrap off the sides of the cramped scrap metal. The ship growled at this, and Poe soothed softly, "Just gimme a little more, gal. Just a little more."

"She's behind us!" Finn called out, and soon enough they were taking fire from their rear. Phasma to her credit was faring no better than Poe in these close quarters, but her shields compensated the matter.

"What are you trying to do, Dameron?" she mused softly as she continued chasing them. The Raptor now flew past the hangar bays, and the pathway opened up. Poe started flying under beams and over fusion lines, diving and dodging the incoming blaster fire. Left and right, top and bottom he swung. Then the path narrowed again.

"Oh no," but Rey put her hand on his shoulder, her eyes closed. Poe saw… felt, something. An instinct not his own. Then he understood, and he smiled.

"Enough games," Phasma muttered as she activated the last of her missiles. The computer blared out the lockon, but Poe didn't care. A light shined up ahead, and he swung hard to the left. They were out in the open again, the desert below them, and Poe moved skyward again. Like a bat out of hell, Phasma was behind them, but she had to swing wide. Too wide.

Poe flew up aways… then he shut off his engine. The ship floated in mid air again before it tumbled down belly up. Phasma was right above them, suspended for a precious few seconds. Finn didn't need to be told. His sight alignment came, her wing in view, and he fired. The laser blast pierced the TIE Defenders wing clean in half, searing it away. Before Phasma could prevent it, her thrusters went dead and she was falling.

"Excellent shot!"

Poe flicked on his engines again, the thrusters kicking back to life and he took off for the air at Mach Speed. A sonic boom occured as the ship broke the sound barrier, and in a few more seconds he was clearing atmo. Another half minute, and he was clear.

"Poe?"

Poe's eyes widened. His mother's face was staring at him from just a few feet away. She was weary, grief stricken, her eyes orbs of pure pain as her flesh turned brittle as paper. She reached out to him, whispering softly, "Please… don't go."

"Mom?" he muttered.

"Poe… please… come back to me."

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Rey was looking intently at him, her eyes narrowed. She extended a hand, her own eyes closing. Her mind extended forth into the void, Poe beside her. All around them was a sea of darkness like no other.

"Wha-" and then he saw her. His mother. Moments before she crumbled away to the rotting disease that had taken her life. But she felt… different. Wrong. Cold.

"That is not your mother," Rey said.

"...I know," Poe replied, and before him his mother evaporated into a long, menacing shadow.

 _You shall not escape, Poe Dameron!_ The shadow screeched, and its ice cold hands leapt for him, _You shall not escape me!_

Poe's eyes snapped opened.

"BB-8, jump now!" he screamed as BB-8 put in the coordinates. The Star Destroyer was coming fast. Hundreds of fighter craft were approaching, screaming for their names. And then, space folded around them. White shards of glass appeared on either side of them, and the ship was flung through hyperspace. The fold in space closed behind them, and they were gone.

Grand Admiral Hux grumbled at the feed, halfway impressed and halfway despondent.

"What happened?" he asked the Lord of Ren, who starred wordlessly at the viewport where their prize had just been moments ago.

"She helped him see through my vision."

"Who?"

"...the girl," he sighed. Before the Admiral could pry further, he about-faced and disappeared down the hallway like a black velvet spectre in night. The Admiral sighed wearily.

"Do we have an update on the Captain?"

"Yes sir," his XO, Captain Moden Canady, replied, "she ejected out before her vessel crashed."

"Very well, dispatch a search and recovery team. And begin calculating their possible trajectory route."

"Sir…" Canady began, looking out the window as he did, "no doubt they're heading for New Republic space. We will not be able to follow them without violating the Concordance."

"Any more than we already have. Get me the Crimson Corsairs, Captain."

Reluctantly, the senior officer nodded, "Aye aye, sir."

As he did this, he collapsed into his chair, his weary brow resting on his fingers.

"This has and gotten out of hand. And now? We put our fates in the hands of filthy pirates. Stars help us all."

"They do have their uses, Sir," Canady replied, and Hux nodded.

"Yes… yes, I suppose they do."


	18. Intermission 2 - Among Old Friends

**Chapter 16 - Among Old Friends**

* * *

 **High Orbit over Chandrila**

 **Capital World of the New Republic**

* * *

She hated coming here. To this world, to these people. Once, she was a firm believer in the way things worked; that they were undoing the mistakes of their forebears and creating something far better. Of course, she had not agreed to every decision or decree, and had fought many of them in the halls of the Senate and later during her full two terms as the leader of the "Free People." Yet, for all those disagreements, she still believed in the cause that her adoptive father had died upholding.

She looked out the window at the towering spires of silver and gray that seem to reach out for the heavens. Everyday, the homeworld of her mentor and closest political ally, and at times rival, was becoming more and more like Coruscant. The lushness of its rolling hills and temperate seas were being replaced by urbanization; the simple and natural with the fires of politics and governance. She understood why Mon Mothma had insisted on moving the capital of New Republic from Coruscant to Chandrila not long after the Concordance was signed-and unlike what many believed, it was not a sign of favoritism or patronage. Coruscant by tradition had always been the center of control, trade and politics in the galaxy, and yet it had long ago grown isolated from the actual affairs of those it governed.

Chandrila was meant to be a new start. Closer to the people, closer to the dream they had all fought for. A good dream, but still just a dream. A dream that was quickly falling apart despite her best efforts.

" _Czzzt… sorry for the delay, Madam Counselor,"_ the intercom buzzed to her left, " _we had to clear Hanna air control for our landing procedures."_

"No need to apologize, Captain," she replied simply and rather distantly.

" _If I say so myself, ma'am, I would think these folks have grown rather skittish as off late."_

She could only afford a thin smile. It had been over a decade since the Chimera movement within the New Republic had been exposed and destroyed, and yet the damage they had wrought were stilling being felt today. After all, how could the people of the galaxy trust their government when it was revealed to being puppeteered by a murderous, fanatical secret society determined to wipe out a single group of people by any means necessary and at any cost? That question had ruined the political career of Chancellor Pwoe Borileias after a single term of office and had nearly torn the New Republic apart at the seams. Though she could hardly have complained as it had assured her own rise to the Chancellor's office, but that hadn't been why she had taken the job.

It had nearly destroyed her marriage and her already strained relationship with her son to do it… but it had to be done. Pwoe had been a part of the newest generation of politicians, and the galaxy wanted something older and pure. They needed a hero, and they didn't need to look further than Leia Organa Solo, Senator of the New Alderaanian Sector and founding member of both the Alliance and the New Republic. The vote for her had been unanimous; there hadn't even been an opposing candidate. And so, she had served her time and did her part to help fix the damage.

But as she had found, the damage had been on the very soul of the state and her peoples. Now the dream she had spent her entire life fighting for and sacrificed so much for was dying, and she felt in some ways powerless to stop it. The name of Leia Organa Solo still carried weight but…

Her hand felt for the lightsaber clipped to her belt. She stared into its silver metalwork; her tired reflection staring back at her.

"Luke," she whispered softly into the empty void of the ship, closing her eyes as she did, "Cale."

Warm tears fell down her cheeks, but she hardly seemed to notice. It was a futile practice that she had tried for the past four years, but she tried again. She reached her mind through the void, calling out the names again and again. Like an echo, the sound of her own voice merely reverberated back from the darkness. She felt its swirling, treacherous mists reach up to her, whispering her name as its tendrils wrapped around her legs. Slowly and with a heavy sigh, she opened her eyes again and she was back in the present, and the world she had grown to resent.

She shook her head at it all, and slumped into her chair as the Naboo-built Nubian Yacht approached the skylines of Hanna City.

" _Czzch… we're making our final approach, ma'am. We should be at the docking port in two minutes."_

"Thank you, pilot. How is the reception committee?"

" _The usual, ma'am. No reporter worth their spice is going to pass up you returning to the planet. You've been gone a long while, if I say so myself."_

"Yes, I suppose I have."

" _The Rangers are ready to move you out, but…"_

There was a long pause before the Captain of the Yacht asked:

" _The Revanites want to know if you want them to join the escort as well. They wouldn't mind getting a bit closer than just scope range."_

"Oh they do, do they?" she asked with a smile. She felt the Captain shrug.

" _They are Mando's, ma'am, they don't like being sidelined just for support. They maybe a bunch of religious nuts, but they do take keeping you safe pretty seriously."_

"Even though my brother and I really have nothing to do with their long gone, ideological namesake?" she chuckled.

" _Ma'am, half the galaxy already thinks your brother is a god, and you're close enough to that status as it is. Can't say it's all that surprising that some would actually act on that."_

Leia smiled at that. It also didn't hurt that they were some of the finest warriors in the galaxy, though the irony of them protecting a member of their sworn enemy was not lost on her. She sighed, and after a few seconds consideration, gave her answer:

"No need to draw more attention than is needed, Captain. A simple escort will do."

" _You sure, ma'am? I don't think they'd mind pushing some news parasite around a bit. Well, I certainly wouldn't mind."_

"As tempting as that is, I will have to decline. We are here to make allies, not new enemies," _I already have enough of those as it is,_ she didn't add.

" _Understood, Counselor. We're making our final approach now,"_ He paused for a moment as he checked his list, " _and your friend is waiting on the deck."_

"Of course he is," she suppressed a chuckle as she adjusted her formal white robes, and secretly resecurred her lightsaber beneath her flowing cloak. In the bay below, her escort of formally dressed, but uncomfortable looking Antaran Rangers waited patiently for her arrival. While they were fine fighters and more than proficient at keeping her safe, they weren't exactly the most tactful of fellows when it came to looking the political part. They'd rather be marching out in full armor and kit, pushing folks out of the way and generally doing their best to get their charge inside and under cover, but they were more than willing to make necessary, if albeit disagreeable accommodations.

Afterall, the galaxy hadn't exactly forgotten when they'd stormed the New Republic Senate to arrest members of the conspiracy that nearly exterminated the Jedi for a second time. Which had ended with them throwing said conspirators out into the streets and inciting a mob to beat them within an inch of their lives, before dragging them away to stand trial for their treachery against the guardians of the New Republic. They spotted her coming and immediately stiffened to a disguised parade rest.

"Escort is ready to move out on your word, ma'am."

Leia could only shake her head, "No need to be so tense, Captain. I doubt anyone would make an attempt on my life here, on the very heart of the New Republic."

"With all due respect, Counselor," the Ranger replied curtly, "your brother was at the Jedi Temple, the most secure place in the entire galaxy and he-"

She held up her hand and nodded.

"I understand."

The Captain of the guard sighed, "We only wish to ensure your safety, ma'am. We failed to protect your brother when he needed us most. We will not allow that to happen to you."

She smiled up at him and patted his arm.

"I have faith in your abilities to keep me safe, Captain. Now, shall we go and meet the limelight?"

The limelight came almost immediately after the ramp touched the deck, in the form of a hundred anxious holonet reporters and the flashes of as many pict-journalists. As she and her escort personnel stepped down the ramp, they were swarmed by mikes and projectors.

"Counselor Organa!" one reporter asked as she tried shoving her mike in her face before her escort roughly moved her aside, "What brings you back to Chandrila after so many years?"

"What news on the Jedi?" another screamed her way.

"Are you here to vote on the-"

"What's your response to Senator Fey'lya's-"

"You've been seen campaigning on-"

"Ma'am!" the very first reporter came scrambling back up to the front of their column, moving backwards as Leia's escort tried to shove her out of the way, "You haven't answered my question!"

Leia stopped the escort with swipe of her hand and faced the reporter, conscious of a floating projector moving closer to her face, "And what question was that?"

"With all due respect, ma'am, it's been nearly three years since you've been to Chandrila. Many of us still remember the fuss you put up leaving. So, why are you back?"

Before she could answer, the smoothest and most honey-covered voice this side of the galaxy cut in:

"Why, she is here to visit an old friend, of course. No harm in that, is there?"

Leia could only smile as Lando Calrissian effortlessly parted through the swarm of media vultures, his charm radiating like the sun as his own escort of blue uniformed Bespin Wing Guard trailed behind him.

"After all, the day that we old friends cannot get together without some suspicious sort assuming the absolute worst is the day that we all should stay home in relative comfort," he eyed the reporter with a wink, "and not provide you and your stations with the finest stories possible."

The reporter blushed from ear to ear and turned her head to avoid being seen. Leia tilted her head and shot him a bemused smile, "I see your charm hasn't faded since we last saw each other."

Lando took her by the hand and kissed it gingerly, "Hello, what have we here? A fine lady with far too much on her lovely mind? Tsh tsh, one ought to take the moment to relax, especially in your case."

The entire moment was caught by every single projector, and Leia had no doubt it would be on the cover of every holo-net story covering her return to the capital world.

"Everytime I relax," she eyed him warmly, her smile spreading into a smirk, "something terrible happens."

Lando beamed brightly, taking her aside as he reached his hand into his cloak and a moment later fished out what appeared to be simple gray remote. When he pressed it, every single protector that had closed within a yard of them suddenly danced and swirled about as though they're handlers had lost complete control. At least, until the hovering devices got to a minimum of fifteen feet from the escort and their charge. The few who pushed their luck quickly crashed to the ground in a loud clutter among the curses of annoyed reporters.

"There. Now we friends can have a few moments to ourselves. As I was saying, nothing terrible happened on Endor," he replied, his charm practically butter on the air, "I believe Han can attest to that particular truth."

"Now now, don't be jealous," she shook her head at him, "I just happen to meet the scruffy looking nerfherder first."

"From what I heard, in a trash compactor," he laughed.

"Not the most romantic of places-"

"Oh, I disagree. Nothing more romantic than meeting your flame while being under a hail of bolts. Believe me, it has that effect of… spicing up the moment, if you know what I mean?"

"You're a real charmer, Lando."

"Would you expect no less?" Lando asked, the pearl whites of his teeth showing as he eyed the suspiciously placed reporter with a handheld camera not three feet from them, "Now, how about a nice formal picture for the history books?"

Leia turned to face the camera, giving it her most regal smile possible as she shook hands with man of a hundred titles. Lando Calrissian: gambler, swindler, smuggler, entrepreneur, Baron-Administrator, General, owner of no less than six separate companies, and now Senator of his old staging block: the Anaot Sector. At the moment, he was about the only person Leia could honestly trust on this entire planet, and the feeling was mutual.

"So," he said sideways as he waved at the camera and the audience around, just before their escort roughly pushed aside the reporters as they continued their advance, "may I assume you're here to chat up our mutual friend down in the roundest building this side of the Core Worlds?"

"'Friend' would be putting it very heavy," she replied, keeping a straight, beaming face as their escorts surrounded them and began marching them through the crowds, "So, can I assume you're here to tell me that's a bad idea?"

"On the contrary, I'm here for the exact same reason. Oh sure, it is a bad idea, but what can be done but not bad ideas, hmm? I heard you were coming in from Mon Cal, and I figured we'd go together," he put a soft hand on her shoulder, craning his head and grinning, "like in the old days, eh?"

She smiled up at him, brushing off his hand from her white cloak as their escort moved them into a waiting area as the Mandalorians quickly inspected their awaiting hover-car.

"Old days… like when you were dangling over a Sarlaac?" she commented rather salaciously.

Lando laughed, marching in step by her side, his velvet majorelle cape flowing behind in tempo with her white. "Yes yes… and when you were wearing that lovely golden outfit of yours. Forgive me for being crude, but I have always wondered whether you kept it or not."

Leia turned her head to look at him, her smile her answer. Lando could only laugh.

"Speaking of which, where is Han?"

"He's looking for a certain roguish pilot."

"Hmm, seems he's been doing that quite a bit these days."

The Rangers gave a confirmation, and the Wing Guards moved them into the fashionable hover-car. Once secured, the two groups mounted police issued vehicles, and they all moved out through the busy streets of Hanna City. A few moments later, another escort of proper police personnel appeared at their back and front.

"Not to worry," Lando shrugged simply as he settled in the comfortable seating, "I happen to know the Chief of Police in the city. He is a good friend of mine."

"Isn't anybody and everybody of importance a good friend of yours?"

"But of course. It's the price you pay for being respectable these days," he then leaned forward, his face growing serious, "what's the news on Mon Cal?"

"I've met with Ackbar and Raddus. They agreed wholeheartedly with us and will be here in time for the assembly."

"Is that the only thing they agreed to?" Lando asked carefully. Leia could only shrug.

"Ackbar may be retired, and while Fay'lya may have done his best to ensure Admiral Raddus is indisposed… well, their word carries far."

"This is a dangerous game we're playing, Leia."

"I thought you liked playing dangerous odds."

"I do. I merely state the obvious. I mean, political machinations are one thing. But fleet wide political-relocation is quite another."

"Don't forget treasonous," Leia added.

"I have not forgotten. Have you talked to Syndulla yet?"

"No, not yet. Why, have you?"

"Not directly," Lando said rather defensively, "but I do know she will be arriving here shortly."

Leia looked absolutely bemused, "Don't tell me you haven't gotten over her low blowing you."

"Oh, I got over that a long time ago. She didn't," he shrugged disarmingly, "even though that particular incident turned out alright in the end."

"You still tried to sell her into slavery," Leia pointed out. Lando almost looked hurt by that remark.

"All part of the plan, as I've told you. And like I said, it all turned alright in the end."

"Oh I know, but next time you might try and fill the others in on your plan. After all, Kanan wasn't too pleased with you either."

Lando smirked, "He was never pleased with me, though. So I-" the words died in his throat before they could be made and he quickly choked on them. His face became long with the shadow of death and he shook his head softly.

"I don't envy that family's going through… or their daughter for that matter," he then leaned forward again, asking with a rather suspicious tone, "she wouldn't happen to know where-"

Leia prompt shook her head, trying but failing to keep the pain out of her face, "Hera hasn't heard from Deba since the Jedi disappeared."

"But I thought she was on Tatooine with Master Hett."

"She was."

The definity of her answer left a cold taste to the air as the two muld over what that fact meant.

"And you still can't sense your brother?"

"Nor my son," she sighed softly, "everytime I try… it's like I'm at sea and mist swirls around me everytime I try to call out to them."

Lando nodded gravely at that. While he'd only been a child during the Clone Wars, he'd still heard the rumor about the Jedi and their powers of foresight somehow being blinded by the war itself. He hadn't put much stock into it, but from everything Leia was describing… he wasn't so sure anymore.

"Well," he replied with his trademark Sabaac smile, "we can at least try and do some good here."

"Yes," Leia said distantly as she stared out the window of the cruiser, "try."


	19. Chapter 15 - Settling Differences

**Chapter 17 - Settling Differences**

* * *

 **Chandrila**

 **Senatorial Housing District**

* * *

Borsk Fey'lya, the Bothan Senator of Kothilis, the founding and core member of the Centrist Party, and Leia's political rival since their days as cabinet members of Mon Mothma's administration. It was these undisputed facts that would've led Leia being labeled desperate and insane in equal measures for what she was about to attempt.

From the corner of his desk situated against the plas-window overlooking the bustling city below, the Bothan cracked a wry smile, "I suppose the irony is not lost on the two of you, is it?"

The smugness of it oozed from furry alien's face with such deliberateness Leia had to resist gagging and Lando to resist throwing his chair at him. But it was to be expected, the first in the manipulator's opening chess move. Lando was quick to counter with his own smile, leaning in to emphasis the point. If nothing else, it was to lessen the situation's blow on Leia.

"Irony, Mr. Fey'lya, is cheapest form of humor one could buy, and one might consider rude. Especially in the company of friends."

"Cheap perhaps, Mr. Calrissian, but impressively common and rare at the same time. Besides, what harm is there for friends, as you put it, to point out such a rarity? Especially one of this kind?"

"You mean when you tried to ruin my career over a simple business disagreement?"

"You mean when you ruined my business prospects over Endor?"

"Child laws still apply, Mr. Fey'lya, even to Ewoks."

"I had nothing to do with that… unfortunate, situation."

"Nothing as in it was never proven that you were involved in it?" Lando smirked, and to his credit Fey'lya took it in stride.

"Precisely. Though... unsubstantiated rumor is just as a dangerous as substantiated ones. I am surprised that you did not try your hand at deconstructional journalism."

"Never had an interest in the subject, or stooping that low for that matter."

"So says the gambler with penitent for underhanded tactics."

"You mean cheating, Mr. Fey'lya?" Lando smiled broadly, "Yes, what you say is true. This I will never deny, for it is also fact that one cannot play Sabacc without such underhanded tactics, as you call them."

"But?"

"Never did I actively set out to ruin my opponent in both his professional or personal life."

Fey'lya's fur ruffled slightly, but he was quick to suppress it with his own counter statement, "You make it sound like there is such a thing as honor in Sabaac."

"I take it you don't believe so?"

"The point of the game is the acquisition of wealth by manipulating your opponent into all but handing it to you."

Lando shook his head at the Bothan, "Hence why you were never good at the game."

Fey'lya frowned, "I have won hands against even you."

"Yes but you miss the point of the game. Sabaac is and never has been about, as you put it, the manipulation of your opponent or the acquisition of money. That is merely a result and bonus, respectfully."

Fey'lya stroked his beard, shrugging, "I suppose you're going to tell me what the point is, then?"

"The fact I have to speaks volumes about your character," Lando smiled, "no, the point has always been the matching of wit, strategy and, of course, a little luck, and seeing who will win out. A duel, you might say."

"Except no one dies from the exchange," Leia replied with the shrug of the hand, and Lando nodded.

"The point of the game, Mr. Fey'lya, is inherently honor itself."

"What point is there in honor when cheating is the norm?"

"Oh, any player worth his spice can recognize the foul hand and his own in regard. Cheating is not the disqualification of honor. It is merely another extension to the match, and some would argue the true matching point between the abilities of the players."

"And if one loses, where is the honor then? Such as you did to Han Solo? He did take your ship after all."

It had been a cheap shot and Lando had been well expecting it. His smile became causal as he leaned back into his seat with his leg over the other.

"Oh, I took that loss hard, don't mistake me. But the reason for it had less to do with my parting of the Falcon, and more so my wounded pride. I had built myself a reputation for being unbeatable, and Han at the time had no reputation to speak of," he shrugged simply as he continued, "he outplayed me, both over the table and under it. It was a clean win for him, and I learned a valuable lesson from it."

"And what lesson was that?"

"Pride, Mr. Fey'lya. Never let it blind you to the truth."

"Such as now, I suppose," Fey'lya grumbled softly as he rose from his chair, standing before the window with his back turned to them. He stared out at the city before them, the traffic below hitting its all time peak with the sun slowly peeking over the skyscrapers in the distance. Everyday, the world was more and more resembling Coruscant back when that world had been the center of the galaxy. It was much an extension of Fey'lya's machinations and consolidation of power but…

"I miss the old days," he sighed after a moment, "when things were simpler. When politics could be clearly defined. When emergencies, circumstances and events defined what it was we did, not the rhetoric that followed."

Leia allowed the silence that followed to build substantially enough to emphasis her following point, "So… you'll help us?"

Fey'lya turned his head to the them, "You're asking me to betray ten years of party policy, Leia. To go against exactly what it was that got me to my position of power in the first place, and what got many of my constituents elected. Including Chancellor Borealis."

"Yes," Leia said simply, rising from her chair to stand at the Bothan's side, "I am. Because what we are dealing with is bigger than whatever grudge you and I hold."

"I'm not blind to the danger the First Order poses," he began, "but I also know they are not stupid. They couldn't possibly win a war against the New Republic. Never."

"Never is a strong word," Lando tutted, "after all, we were in a worse position than them thirty years ago and look how we turned out."

"We had the backing of the galaxy then. What does the First Order have? A small pocket of an under-developed and uncharted part of the galaxy."

"And thirty years of time to their lonesome," Lando countered with a shrug, "a man can do a lot with thirty years."

"But invade a galaxy? Conquer the New Republic? I'm sorry, but I can't believe that."

Leia exchanged a look with Lando, and sighed, "What if they could?"

Fey'lya turned to stare into her eyes, the furrows around his cheeks ruffling softly as he frowned, "What aren't you telling me?"

Leia's face remain impassive as she repeated the question, "What if they could, Fey'lya?"

"Does this have something to do with your delegation coming here?" he asked, staring out the window.

"Still dabbling in the spy world, Fey'lya?" Lando asked. The Bothan merely shrugged.

"Don't need an elaborate spy ring to see that three admirals, one retired, and the representatives of three major sectors with ties to the both of you all have charted visits to this very world within a week of each other? The representatives I could understand, but Syndulla and the Ackbars? Not very subtle."

"Wasn't the point," Leia mused softly, "our enemies certainly are not. They used their emergence to attack my brother. That should have been enough for Chancellor Borealis."

"Leia, there wasn't enough evidence-" but a hard glare from her caused the rest of his sentence to die in his throat.

"We're at war, Fey'lya." she declared, her eyes burning with the same fire he'd seen over a generation ago. Age had done nothing to hinder her spirit. In fact, it had merely harden it. "We've been at war for over thirty years, and the First Order is getting ready to make its move. The galaxy needs to be ready when it does. I can't do that without your help, political differences or not."

"But why me?"

This was met with an unfazed look and the Bothan sighed, his fur becoming almost curly.

"I've been your adversary since the Rebellion. I built my career off of demonizing you and your ideals. Hell, Borealus wouldn't be in office without me or my campaign against… well, you," he nodded at Lando, who simply shrugged, "out of all of the people you could have come to for help… why me?"

Leia stared into his eyes for a long, unsettling moment. Fey'lya almost felt as though she were searching his soul for something he didn't know what. It produced a cold chill down the back of his spine until she asked, "Why didn't you go after the Jedi?"

Fey'lya looked at her for a long moment, confused, "I don't understand."

"Why did you not join the political bandwagon to have the Jedi brought to heel? Why did you defend them when the rest of your party didn't?"

"Especially considering you and Luke didn't have the best of working relationships," Lando added. To this, Fey'lya stared back into the city below. He'd been here for almost two decades, working to secure the future of his people and the government they'd helped built. He sighed, and shook his head. He hadn't even seen Kothlis, his home, since Mothma offered him a position in her cabinet. Even as his people's Senator.

"Because," he began wearily, closing his eyes as he did, "we needed the Jedi. Celestials strike me down for saying this, but we still need them. The Old Republic only survived as long as it did because of the Jedi, and their fall began the rise of the Empire. How can we expect to survive a fraction of that without them? Yes, my party may have wanted to stick them to the wall, but I thought of the New Republic first. Because I am a patriot."

To this, Leia smiled and took him by the shoulder. No words were needed, for the look she gave him was worth a thousand of them. The bothan nodded once, and clasped his hands behind his back, his ears springing upward. It was a sign of political mind going to work.

"I can't publically support you. It would be political suicide for me. But I will speak with those I trust. Speak in a few ears, let the word spread."

"Perhaps bribe a few seasoned folks?" Lando asked with a chuckle. Fey'lya responded in kind.

"Perhaps," he then looked over at Leia and smiled confidently, "everything will be ready by the time of the assembly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to arrange a few meetings."

He then pressed a button, and the mag-doors to his office opened to reveal a pair of Senate Guards, who quickly escorted the pair out into the waiting arms of their own Ranger escort. Leia stopped for a moment, turning to shoot a smile over at the Bothan.

"Thank you, Borsk."

The Bothan nodded, "I just hope I don't regret this."

* * *

As the Emerald Raptor tore an interdimensional hole in real space and made it's escape into the pocket dimension of Hyperspace, Poe let out an exhausted sigh as he collapsed in his seat. His body felt and probably looked drained, worn and gaunt to the bone. Though at the moment, he was more aware of the droves of sweat drenching through his clothes and making him feel like a soup cup. Still, this was only a momentary awareness as the reality of the situation set in.

They'd made it. Against all odds, twists of fate and general terrible luck, they'd made it. They had the map that Lor San had died to get to him, they had valuable intelligence on First Order doctrine and technology, and to top it off, he'd even managed to bag a Jedi survivor on his way out.

"Bag?" Rey asked with a bemused, almost teasing smile. Poe swiveled in his chair, shrugging slightly.

"Okay, maybe not bag… hey wait a minute, what'd I say about-"

"Poe, you were practically thinking out loud," Rey chuckled at him, "I'd have to be dense not to pick up on that."

"Ah, fair enough. Still, all things considered, this wasn't a complete disaster. We all got out this alive, and with the map."

"Yes," Rey nodded sadly, her eyes downcast, "but at what cost?"

"Yeah…" Poe shook his head as he braced it against his hand, snorting softly as he did. How many people had it taken for them to get to this point? Lor San, the Rangers, those people in the village? He shook his head again. It was pointless to ponder on it.

"No, not pointless," Rey chided him, "never pointless."

Poe smirked and raised an eyebrow, "Come on. I can't be that loud."

"Yeah, you actually are," she laughed as she leaned back in her seat, her eyes staring up at the ceiling for a moment. After a while of looking at nothing in particular, she sighed, "so, what now?"

"Well, as long as this thing holds up, we should be at the rendezvous coordinates in a couple of days."

"Are you doubting the integrity of my baby?"

"You did crash it into a million pieces."

"That's not fair! I got hit by an asteroid!"

"Wait, you're telling me you're so bad at flying you can't avoid a simple asteroid?"

"Yes… no, I mean… it wasn't that simple!"

"Uh huh," Poe beamed smuggly, "just be glad you got me to fly you around."

"Oh really?" she smirked at him, "Where would you be without me making sure we didn't pancake?"

"Pfff, that's just a bonus. Nah, it's me and me alone we're out of this mess."

BB-8 was quick to slap him over the head.

"Ow! What the heck, man!?"

 _Veed-bee-Boop-zee_

"Okay, okay. So, we're both useful."

 _But not as useful as me!_ BB-8 boasted with his arms pressed against what would considered his hips, jutting out his chest.

"You have seriously inflated sense of self importance," Rey deadpanned.

 _And you're mighty proud of your big words!_

Rey was quick to respond by levitating a thermos just sitting there and hurling it at him. BB-8 shrieked, ducked under Poe, and when Poe tried to shove him away from him, he bolted for the open doorway and down the hallway out of sight.

"Run little BB! Run!"

 _I'm gonna get back at you! Eventually!_

"I look forward to it, BB!"

"Hey Rey? Don't provoke the flying beach ball. When he wants to hold a grudge, he holds a grudge."

"Poe, I've had to deal with the grudges of crime lords, Sith Lords and Cultists! I can handle a love stricken, cranky old droid."

"You say that now, but then…" he let the silence of the moment add to his point and Rey rolled her eyes.

"So, once we get to the rendezvous, what then?"

"For me, I dunno. Probably some much deserved R&R."

"And perhaps some beautiful women?" she asked with a sly, teasing grin.

"Well, yes," he deadpanned, "no R&R is truly complete without Sabaac, lots of brew, and lots of women. Oh, and you're invited if you'd like."

"Eh… I don't know. I still don't remember what happened the last time I went such a party."

"Hey, offer's on the table. Free to look at any time you'd like, and I take rainchecks. Now, I'm assuming Leia's going to want to talk to you when we make contact?"

"Yes, I suppose so," was all she said and Poe didn't push the issue.

"Now as for Finn… hey what's wrong?"

She looked up at him, sighing, "Poe, we need to talk about what you did in the Outpost."

"What about it?" Poe asked defensively, "Don't tell me you're saying I should feel sorry for what I did?"

"It's not about me, it's about Finn."

"Rey, those guys had no qualms about strolling into that Outpost and shooting everybody on sight, armed or not. I say what I did was fair."

"Poe, I'm not disputing that. From my point of view, I agree with you. But I'm not talking about me here. I'm just… I'm concerned about Finn."

"Look, I'll handle Finn."

"Poe, how would you feel if he killed your squadron indiscriminately like that in front of you?"

"That's not a fair comparison, Rey. I didn't have a sudden epiphany about who I was and what I was serving and promptly helped in a jail break. Look, we're at war, and like it or not, Finn may very well have to take that next step. It'd be stupid to believe otherwise."

"Poe-" before she could finish, an alarm rang from the instrument panel and Rey growled something as she shot from her seat to head for the door.

"Um, what is that?"

"Fuse line!" she called from the doorway, "It got fried, remember?"

"Oh, what's that? I thought you said I shouldn't doubt the integrity of your baby!"

"Oh shut up!" and she was gone and down a ladder. Poe chuckled to himself, and set about setting up an autopilot and hyperdrive warning system to inform him via intercom when they got close to their destination. A few more instinctual checks later, and he was unstrapping himself from the pilot seat, grumbling as he did.

"Okay Poe. Time to have a little heart to heart with-"

He heard heavy footsteps behind him and he spun around to find Finn standing in the doorway. Poe visibly paled at this, and slowly stepped away from the seat to somewhere with a bit more room.

"Uh… hey, Finn. I… um, was gonna go find you."

Finn nodded, his brow creasing as crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, "Speak."

Poe straightened himself, the color returning to his face as he narrowed his eyes, "Okay, buddy. Here how it is. I ain't sorry for what I did, and if I had to do it again, I would."

For a long stretching moment, nothing changed in Finn's face or body language. He just stood there, stock still like a statue. Emotionless. Then something snapped in his eyes. He lunged forward like a panther, and before Poe could so much as breathe; Finn's hand was against his throat and he was slammed against the wall. His ears rang, his vision swam, his hands clasped desperately around the iron-like grip digging into his neck as Finn bellowed at him like the fiercest bass of a thunderstorm:

"THEY WERE MY BROTHERS, POE! YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO KILL THEM AS YOU DID!"

"Finn…" Poe wheezed and wriggled beneath the Stormtroopers grip as he gasped out, "they... were... massacring...gah, the settlement! They wouldn't have… ah, hesitated... to kill us!"

Finn bore into his eyes as he snarled, "They were doing their duty. They were following their orders."

"Not… good enough!"

For a moment, Poe saw in Finn's eyes the same desperate anger he'd saw not a day earlier when he'd admitted that he wanted to die. That he felt he no longer deserved to live. Now however, it was now directed at Poe himself, and he could feel Finn squeezing his throat tighter and tighter. But then, just as he was beginning to see light, Finn released him. As he collapsed on the floor, Poe saw why.

Rey was standing in the doorway.

"Stay out of my head," Finn growled, but Rey just shook her head at him.

"Not until you calm down."

"How? How can I calm down? He murdered my brothers in cold blood!"

Poe coughed behind him and fought his way back to his feet, "You frickin' kidding me with that? Did you not see what they did?"

"Of course I did," Finn shot back, "they were fighting armed hostiles. They dealt with them the way soldiers do."

"Those armed hostiles were just people, Finn!" Rey shouted at him, "People who just wanted to be left alone! Their only crime was being in the same area as us! Zuvio's only crime was employing me!"

"They killed them not because of what they did," Poe added, "but because they were in their way! That's why I did what I did!"

"And you didn't do the same, Poe? Your New Republic isn't exactly clean of its own crimes either."

"We don't go kicking in people's doors and killing them without a reason, Finn!"

"Don't be naive, Poe," Finn growled, "after all, your own government housed a conspiracy that got thousands killed just to kill to a mere few hundred."

"I may be a lot of things, Finn, but naive ain't one of them. And we dealt with them! And the New Republic is still standing!"

"At what cost, though?" Finn narrowed his eyes, "The Hutts and Zhan's criminal cartels are still puppeteering the Outer Rim. People under your New Republic's responsibility, and yet they do nothing."

"It's not that simple, Finn," Rey attempted to cut in, but Finn shook his head.

"It is that simple, Rey. If put in the same position, the First Order would have dealt with the issue before they'd let it grow out of hand."

"Oh really?" Poe shook his head, "You do realize that every single damn insurgent group, and every damn cult of frickin' maniacs we've had to deal with was funded by **your** government?"

Finn narrowed his eyes, "You have no proof of that, otherwise we wouldn't be merely talking it."

"Oh gimme a break!" Poe shouted at him, "Who else stood to gain from the Crises, from Antiga? And let's not forget what Rey told us about what happened to the Jedi! And now everything that's happened on Jakku!"

"I didn't take you for a conspiracy nutter," Finn shook his head at him, "and you've ignored what the New Republic did to Admiral Daala and her Remnant."

Now it was Rey's turn to shout in indignation, "Daala!? You're actually protecting that maniac!? She tried to destroy the Jedi and the New Republic! She had to be stopped!"

"How? By bombing them in submission? By blockading Pro-Imperial worlds who supported her? By kicking in doors and killing people who don't support your form of government? By doing no less than the First Order has done?"

"You're actually defending the folks you betrayed? After what they made you do on Jakku?" Poe asked in disbelief. Finn shook his head again.

"I'm not defending anyone. But you're being hypocritical with your justifications."

Poe's face grew as red as a raging inferno ready to erupt and take them all with him in the fiery aftershock. Before this could happen though, Rey stepped between the two men and quite suddenly the room felt… calmer. Yes, the anger was still very much there, but for a moment the two men were allowed to think and realize what had just happened.

"What did you do?" Poe asked.

"Telepathy," Finn answered, "trying to calm us down?"

"Well, you were about to hit each other," she shrugged, "and I didn't really calm you down, so to speak. I mean, you both have strong wills, and well I'm not exactly a schmuck myself but-"

"Rey," Poe interrupted her with a smile, "you're rambling."

"I know I am," she replied exasperated before her face grew serious, "Finn, I need to ask. Where do you learn about what's happened in the galaxy, and more importantly, from who?"

Finn narrowed his eyes, "The First Order, but..." then he trailed off.

Rey nodded, "Then I suppose they wouldn't have told you that her 'government', as you call it, sponsored terrorist cells that attempted to bring down the New Republic? That they directly financed Lumiya and her campaign that murdered thousands to kill not even hundreds, but just a few dozen? Did they even tell you that?"

Finn looked at her for a moment before he sighed, "No."

"Finn… I won't deny that we've done some questionable things, but we were dealing a faction whose sole purpose was my own people's complete and utter extinction, including my parents. There was no choice in the matter. It was either them or us, and we gave them every chance to come to terms."

"So you did what you had to in order to survive," Finn nodded, "this is no different than what my brothers did."

"Including what they did at the village?" Poe rebutted. Finn closed his eyes, his body becoming as tense as stone, and Rey could feel deep within him a conflict raging over his very soul. The very fact he was able to keep it contained, keep it out of sight and compartmentalize it was almost remarkable in a way.

After a moment, Finn shook his head, "I don't know what it is I am supposed to believe in anymore. Who I am or…" he sighed before he rested his eyes on Poe again, "I would have accepted what you did if there hadn't been a choice. That it was your life, or theirs. But it wasn't. We were free to leave, and yet you turned around and turned this ship on my brothers. That I cannot accept."

Poe shook his head disparagingly before he locked eyes with the man who had risked everything to save him, and now Poe in turn was trying his soul. "Finn... tell me something. Do you honestly believe that you will be able to keep your hands clean, or that I would be able to when the war officially starts up again?"

Finn stated, the fight gone from his voice, "There isn't a war yet."

"Finn, you and I both know that it's just around the corner. That even what we're doing ain't gonna stop it. I'm sorry, Finn… but there isn't any other way around it," he pointed a finger directly at Finn's chest, "you are an enemy of the First Order now. And they will do their damndest to kill you."

"I know," Finn said, "my own platoon commander was going to execute the both of us," he nodded at Rey, "regardless of orders, because he knew what I represent. I am a fault in the system. A compromise in the vision. And they will not stop until that fault is... corrected."

With this, he at last slumped into a chair, his face drained of its color and energy. After a long moment, he muttered, "I don't know what to do anymore."

Rey sat at his elbow, her hand at his shoulder, "We'll figure that out. Together."

Finn nodded, whispering, "I suppose so."

Suddenly, there was an ear splitting alarm as warning lights bathed the room in cycled crimson overtures.

"No no no no!" Rey screamed as she darted down the hallway, and in a few moments of perpetual confusion, Poe and Finn followed. A moment later, they ran into BB-8 running around like an Eopies with its head cut off, brandishing a fire extinguisher.

"Buddy, what the blazes is-"

They ran into the engine room to find it on fire. Rey was in a corner, trying desperately to hold back the inferno that was slowly but surely growing in strength and intensity. All around them, power fluctuated as the lights and consols flickered on and off, and Finn had to jump out of the way as a door almost chopped him in two. This sudden reaction broke their confusion induced stupor and they quickly grabbed spare extinguishers and went to working helping BB-8 beat back the fires.

"Can't you put this stuff out!?" Poe shouted as Rey slowly advanced forward. Through clenched teeth and shaking hands, she shouted back:

"The chemicals are feeding off of air in the room! I can't exactly force that out!"

Finn took the flank and started applying the foam directly to the engine compartment.

"Wait don't do that! You could damage the hyperdrive!"

"It's already on fire! It can't get much worse than that!"

"Oh yes it can!" Rey shouted, "It always gets worse!"

"Oh to blazes with this," Poe grabbed BB-8 and headed out the door.

"Hey where you going!?"

"Tie yourself to something! I'm gonna drop us out of hyperspace and open an airlock!"

"Um, are you sure that's a good-"

"Just do it!"

The two of them looked at each other for a moment, and then Rey pried open a door and hurled herself and Finn through just as the flames raged after them. A moment later, the Raptor tore through immaterium into material space. Already, the fire in the engine room was affecting the power systems, and Rey and Finn soon found themselves floating in the air. Worse still, Poe was quickly losing power in everything else.

"Guys, I hope you're ready! BB-8, open the airlock and bulk door," he checked the diagram, "5D. On my mark..."

On the other side of the vessel, BB-8 readied himself for the inevitable uphill battle of not getting sucked into space. Finn and Rey grabbed onto whatever they could as Poe's voice rang over the intercom:

"Mark!"

Suddenly, a loud scream rang out through the ship as the power of a thousand whirlwinds whipped through the halls and bulkways, tearing away anything not bolted down or magnetized into place. Finn, Rey, and BB-8 all struggled not to get sucked out with the rest of the garbage. Yet behind them, the engine door had not opened, and now the lights in the subsection had gone dark, with only the flames the source of illumination.

" _Damnit, power's gone out in that area! I need to-chzzk!"_ and the intercom went dead. With only moments to spare, Finn gestured out to Rey and she nodded. She released her grip on the harness, and for a pivotal moment she floated in freefall before Finn grabbed at her belt and pulled her back in. Now with both hands free, she closed her eyes and focused all her power and might into what she prepared to do next.

With a groan of twisting metal and rending fibers, she forced the door apart. The flames blasted out, rearing out in a massive explosion. With a mere moment and three inches to spare, Rey brought her hand forth to halt the ball of fire and direct it right back in the sucking air current. BB-8 dove for cover as the flames roared his way, his gyros catching a breath or two as the inferno was sucked into space. Once cleared, he slammed himself onto the door controls, sealing the airlocks as fresh air was pumped back into the ship.

And then the lights went out for a final time.

* * *

"Okay… I think I got it gah!" Rey jerked her hand back as the electric coil shocked her hand. Fortunately, the result was enough as first emergency power and then dimmed sub-dermal lighting. Unfortunately, the gravity was still incredibly wonky, everything was still flickering and now the door to the room was opening and closing at random intervals.

"Well, that's a start," Poe replied as he pushed himself back down onto the deck platting, "how bad is it?"

Rey didn't even bother to look at the smoldered remains of the compressor, fuel and power lines, "Oh, we're basically dead in the water," she said with an exasperated smile, "the hyperdrive's fried, sub-lights out, and we're now running on auxiliary power."

"No chance of fixing it?"

"Nope."

"That's just swell," Finn groaned, "Poe, do you think you could contact someone out here?"

"Yeah, but the moment I do, everybody with a sensor array's gonna know we're here."

"Well, it's either we freeze to death, choke to death, or get shot to death," Rey beamed cheerfully, "which do you prefer?"

"Eh, probably the latter one… hey, buddy! What's wrong?"

BB-8 floated in in a hurry, _Did any of you turn on an emergency beacon by any chance?_

"Um, no. Why?"

 _Because there's one going off in the cockpit!_

"Oh for crying out loud," Poe groaned, "Rey?"

"No idea."

"Well, let's go take a look, shall we?"

They didn't even bother running back to the cockpit, the feeling of exhausted defeat killing that kind of spirit in a heartbeat. Sure enough, a single red light indicating an outgoing transmission was blaring from the control panel. And right before anything else could be done, a ship a hundred times their size appeared out in front of them and all but buried them in its shadow.

"Hey Rey?"

"Yeah?"

"What was that you said about things getting worse?"

"I did tell you."

"Yup. You did. So much for things going smoothly."


	20. Chapter 16 - Meeting Legends

**Chapter 18 - Meeting Legends**

 **The Emerald Raptor**

 **Edge of New Republic Space**

* * *

Their situation had already been desperate, but now it had moved to near hopeless. Poe's mind raced with plans, counter plans, and then promptly shot down each one despairingly. They couldn't run, they didn't have enough power to fight, and the ship fast approaching them had all the intentions of boarding them. As the ship approached though, he saw that it was oddly shaped and most certainly not like the dagger design of First Order warships.

"What is that thing, anyway?" Poe asked. Rey scrutinized at it for a long moment, tilting her head to the side.

"I think it might be a freighter."

"A cargo hauler?" Poe asked in disbelief, "The heck is it doing out here?"

"That beacon must've attracted it here," Finn answered, "Poe, did anybody come by the ship while we were gone?"

"Not while I was there," he shook his head, "Rey?"

"I have no idea. For all I know, Zuvio might've installed it without me knowing. Maybe as an insurance policy, I dunno."

"That be the case," Poe interjected, "what are we dealing with here, exactly? I mean surely these guys can't be First Order. They wouldn't send a freighter to get us, and we're in New Republic Space now!"

"No, but I do think I know who this might be," Finn replied, moving up to the cockpit to get a closer look. Unfortunately, details aside from shape were blacked out with the sun being at the ship's bow. Still, it was enough to make the assumption. "The First Order has a number of pirate and mercenary companies on payroll."

"That makes sense," Rey nodded, "plausible deniability. Plus, while those jackboot thugs-no offense."

"None taken."

"Well, they can't come into our space, but a mercenary company could, right?"

Poe shrugged, "The charter is still in effect, sure, but a lot of Counselor Organa's policies back when she was Chancellor dried up most of the work out here."

"Hence why they came to us," Finn concluded, "we were willing to pay, and this is exactly the sort of situation they were hired for."

"Great," Poe groaned, "what are we dealing with, exactly?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. Guavian Death Gang, Crimson Corsairs, Fett's Bounty Hunting Guild... It could be anybody and they could be bringing anything."

"Great again. Rey, is there someplace to hide?"

"Yes, but if they search thoroughly enough or bring sensors, they're going to find us."

"Hmm, that's true," Poe said, putting his hand over his chin, "we'd need something to kill 'em remotely or put them down long enough so we could sneak past 'em or something."

"Do we have any explosives?" Finn asked, "I could jury rig one of the doors."

"You are not putting bombs on my baby!" Rey exclaimed, "Besides, we don't have any."

 _Vee-dee-Bee-Boop,_ BB-8 suddenly said.

"What'd he say?" Finn asked.

"Nitro-Tibana Gas," Poe answered, "Finn, you think these guys might bring hazard suits or something like that?"

"Doubt it. There's still a breathable atmosphere."

"Good. We can try poisoning them, then. Rey?"

"I'd have to disassemble one of the fuel intake valves. I have no idea how long that will take."

"Well, we have about ten minutes before that thing swallows us."

"I can certainly try."

 _I thought you Jedi didn't believe in trying!_ BB-8 beeped sarcastically, _Do or do not and all that drivel?_

"That's not even what that line means!" Rey exasperated.

"Focus you two," Finn growled, "we'll need respirators. You have any?"

"Go down to the galley. Left wall, third drawer over."

"Copy," and Finn was off to get them. Rey quickly followed suit, shouting as she did:

"I'll need BB-8!"

Poe nodded, and the droid took off after her. Poe sat back in his chair, and started flipping off sub-systems throughout the ship. Their plan hinged entirely on whoever it was to keep moving towards them and not get too suspicious about their stranded prey. So, he had to make them read as bent, broken and stranded as they looked. When he was finished, the ship was simply floating in the vacuum.

"Okay, hope this works," Poe grunted as he swung out of his chair and made his way down to the engine room. He actually tripped halfway there when Rey popped up from the floor beneath him, the grating falling to the side.

"The hell?" Poe asked as he collected himself from the floor. Rey shot him an apologetic look before she disappeared under the crawl space.

"Sorry," she called out to him, "the intake valves from the engine room were sealed by the heat. I had to follow the fuel line to another one."

"Y'know, you've got a bit of an affinity for crawl spaces," Poe smirked.

"Not as much as Master Solusar," she replied, her voice muffled as she stuck her head in something Poe couldn't quite see, "you should've seen him after the Nakatomi Affair. I'm surprised he didn't lose his feet after walking barefoot on all that plas-glass."

"I heard about that. Something 'bout terrorists or something?"

"Yeah, Kam was visiting his wife for Life Day when the place got hijacked. They wanted to steal the company's bearer bonds. He got separated from his lightsaber and had to take them out the old fashion way. Heh, everybody started calling him 'cowboy' after that-ow!"

"You okay?" Poe called down.

"Yeah," Rey growled, doing her damndest to keep the pain out of her voice but failing, "burned my hand on a fuse line. Just a few more minutes and I'll have it-"

Suddenly, Finn came running in, "We've got a problem."

"Oh great," Poe snorted, "now what?"

He was answered when the ship started to jolt and spasm as if a giant hand had just plucked them from the vacuum and was dragging them away, kicking and screaming.

"Tractor beam," Finn answered.

"Well, that speeds things up," Poe facepalmed before dragging his fingers through his hair, "that gives us about 60 seconds to bend over and kiss our sorry butts goodbye."

"60 seconds!?" Rey exclaimed from below, "I can't do this in 60 seconds! That's not enough time!"

"Could we try going the other way?" Finn asked.

"If the engine was working properly, yes," Poe grumbled, "If we put anymore pressure on it, it might just blow."

"Plan B, then," Finn nodded as he threw over a pair of respirator mask over to Poe. He then gestured down in the hole, "get in, and hand this to Rey."

"Whatchya thinking, buddy?"

"Well, it will take at least a few minutes for them to board us. We use that time to our advantage."

"Well, it's better than nothing, I suppose."

Quickly, they got to expanding the bulkhead so the three of them could fit when they heard a loud _Clunk!_

"Magnetic lock?" Finn asked, to which Poe replied:

"Yup," and they closed the grate on top of them. Now underneath the flooring, their ears were filled to the brim with hyper-venting and cooling lines humming all around them. While it did rob them of proper hearing above floor; it also allowed them feel even the slightest vibrations, especially when whoever it was attached a boarding pylon to their bulkhead. Finn signed they would have about a minute before they were boarded. Poe signed back that would only be if they were taking their time.

Then they heard a loud hiss of compressed air, and somewhere across the ship a bulkhead door opened. After that, they heard voices through the humming. Machine voices.

"Uh oh," Poe breathed.

"What now!?" Rey cursed under her breath before she felt it through the Force and then through the floor. Metal foot falls echoed above the deckplatting, the weight of them vibrating sharply through them.

 _What are we looking at?_ Poe mouthed.

 _I dunno,_ Finn replied, _probably droids._

 _Well, gas is out, then,_ Rey mouthed to the pair of them as she crawled back to them, BB-8 close behind, _what now?_

Poe answered by drawing his blaster pistol and pointing it directly at the flooring above them. Finn followed suit with his F-11, BB-8 with his arc-caster and Rey put the emitter of her saber flush against the deck plating. For a very long moment of hummed out dread, they felt and heard nothing beyond the humming of the engine. Another minute passed, the ticking of seconds becoming maddening. Now they could feel patrols milling about the ship until they finally felt one stop right above their position.

" _Area secure, west wing,"_ a mechanical voice echoed.

" _No life signs detected in East Wing,"_ another said, " _rerouting patrol routes to center redoubt."_

" _Roger Roger,"_ a third acknowledged and they began marching off in the opposite direction.

 _I think we're clear,_ Finn mouthed. But he soon ate his words when the droids suddenly stopped and marched right back.

" _Life signs detected,"_ one of the voices said, " _commencing scans."_

The four of them all looked at each other and as one nodded. With a mighty kick, Finn knocked the platting away as Rey and Poe ascended from below. Poe drew sight on a rustic brown B-1 battle droid and swiftly dispatched it with a blaster shot to the head.

" _Hostiles encountered!"_ the droid's head babbled as it flew from its shoulders, but not before BB-8 grabbed it with an outstretched mechanical arm and chucked it at another droid like a galactic pitcher, knocking it over in the process.

" _Jedi detected!"_ the other two droids echoed as Rey ignited her saberpike and quickly chopped the pair of them to pieces. Now they could hear more coming down from either side of the hallway. Finn rose from the underground and began shooting down one side while Poe suppressed the other.

"If they come out with a combined assault," Finn cursed as he clipped one droid in the shoulder, "we won't be able to last long without cover."

"I'm thinking, man. I'm think-"

"Stop shooting, you two," Rey suddenly said.

"What?" Finn asked, "Why?"

She answered him with a knowing smile, "Because we aren't in danger."

She then stepped out into the hallway before the men could grab her, deactivating her saber and slinging it over her shoulder. She held her arms wide, and after a moment a pair of B-1's crept around the corner. They're weapons were not drawn, instead being held at their sides as they stared at her for a long moment. Then one of them nodded:

" _Identity confirmed. Threat Level: minimal. Captain Solo, advise boarding now."_

"Captain Solo?" Poe asked, "What the-"

Somewhere off in the distance, a hydraulic door opened, and soon after a pair of footfalls echoing off of the aged metal. One nearly overshadowed the other with the sheer weight behind it, and when the pair rounded the corner, Rey's smile widened, her hands on her hips.

"Well, well. If it isn't Mr. 13 Parsecs himself. How have you been, Mr. Solo? It's been a long time."

The look of a man marked by experience and world weary, dumb luck and jaded know-how beheld her. The eyes still maintained the same cynical, idiot-weary expression they'd always had, and the hand resting on the butt of his blaster looked sharp as ever. If anything, the only real change to him was that he had just a few more white hairs than before.

He tilted his head after a moment, a craggy smile playing on his aged face as he gruffly answered, "It was 12 parsecs, kiddo. And don't call me Mister. It makes me feel older."

Beside him, the Wookie scoffed and growled, crossing his enormous shaggy arms as he did.

"No, I'm not old," he growled indignantly, jutting a finger up at the Wookie, "and most certainly not as old as you, furball."

The Wookie gasped in mock hurt and growled a rebuttal, his eyes rolling as he did. Rey smirked at this, crossing her arms and shifting her stance to put her weight playfully on her hip:

"Don't you know he's still in his prime, Mr. Solo? 236, after all, is still child's play compared to most Wookies."

"He's 234, for your information, kiddo," he countered angrily, "and you stay out of this."

"Oh please," she smiled playfully, "have you ever known me not to?"

An aged smile passed by his craggy features and he shrugged his shoulders, "No, I suppose not. My son certainly didn't think so."

"No, I suppose he didn't," she nodded simply and a slight bit stiffly. A moment of silence came and went between them, their eyes searching each other for something they had no idea what before Rey took off at a run and almost tackled into the elderly man. Han Solo however, had been long expecting it. He clutched her to him tightly, squeezing her slightly as she buried her face into his shoulder.

His hands rubbed across the back of her head as he whispered softly to her, relief heavy in his voice, "I'm glad you're alive, Rey."

She looked up into his softening eyes, her face trembling. She hadn't even realized she'd been crying. "Me too," she replied, trying and failing to keep her voice from breaking as a million emotions ran through her like a waterfall at high noon.

"Shh," Han soothed as he took her face comfortingly in his chest, "it's okay, it's okay. I'm here. You're safe now."

"I know. I just…" the rest of it died in her throat as she looked over and saw the Wookie pouting rather playfully. She laughed at him, "Oh don't think I forgot about you, Chewie."

Chewbacca chortled heartily, and practically plucked Rey from Han's arms into his. And while this hug was nonetheless warm, comforting and full of long suppressed joy and relief all bottled up into one, it was still a hug from a Wookie. Rey quickly croaked from the Wookie's awesome strength and just before the rest of her life could be crushed from her; Chewie set her down, playfully rubbing her hair and shooting her a question with a sly smile on his lips.

"Oh you mean besides getting my ribs cracked? Yeah, I'm good, you big goof."

A long stint of laughter followed that as the cuddly Wookie once more decided to mess with the Jedi's hair. "Oh, would you stop that? My hair is not your plaything!" she exclaimed as she tried to push the Wookies giant paws away, but it was of no use. Chewie just smiled wolfishly and continued pawing her head.

 _Grrrarr!_ The Wookie growled cheerfully.

"I don't care if it's fluffy-would you stop already!?"

Han cracked a sardonic smile at her, "Don't you know not to argue with a Wookie?"

"I'm not letting this Wookie win-hey would you let go of my braid!?"

Poe, Finn and BB-8 all had to resist laughing at the Jedi's discomfort, but that didn't last very long. BB-8 actually attempt the beginning of his long enacted revenge by pulling out his cam-recorder before Poe smacked him across the helm and gestured a warning finger at him.

"Huh," Finn whispered to Poe after a moment, "I didn't realize she knew **the** General Solo."

"Um, Solo?" Poe whispered, "Her boyfriend, Cale? Did you seriously not realize that he was the son of Han and Leia?"

"I thought that was a common name on Corellia," he shrugged, "I didn't realize that he was the son of such famous figures… I really should have realized it the moment you said his cousin was Ben Skywalker." he whispered back.

"And who the hell are you?" Han growled moodily as he put his hand close to his blaster and stared at Finn intently.

Finn suddenly snapped to a sharp salute, "Finn, General sir. My name is Finn."

Han raised an eyebrow, "Finn? What like that fish on Dac, or Mon Cala, or whatever the hell they are calling it now a days?" he looked squarely at Poe, who could only shrug.

"Sorry, sir. It was my idea."

" **Your** idea? The hell is that suppose mean?"

Poe looked sideways at Finn, who in turn seemed to stiffen like a statue. Poe sighed after a moment, "He's a friend, sir. He-"

"I'm a Stormtrooper, General," Finn interrupted.

Han just stared at him, unblinking. Chewie stiffened a bit taller, his hands releasing Rey and going low for the bowcaster slung at his hip. Han's cold, hardened gaze bore through Finn's eyes and directly into his soul; searching. Finn felt unnerved by the unblinking eyes, and he caught the sudden movement of leather popping from the holster.

"Commander Dameron," Han said cooly, his gaze never leaving the self-admitted enemy, "explain."

Perspiration pooled at Poe's brow as his eyes moved from Han to Finn. Strangely though, he noted, Finn wasn't sweating. He wasn't even fazed.

"I'll be perfectly blunt, then, sir," and Poe began explaining the events of the past week, and namely Finn's role in all of it. Han said nothing and remained utterly unchanged in posture or in his gaze as he continued to stare down the former Stormtrooper. Finn likewise remained stoic. Eventually, Rey took up the tale for her part in all of it, and Han's eyes softened afterwards.

"So," Han finally said, "you grew a conscience, huh? How convenient for you."

"I suppose it is, General sir."

Han shot him an annoyed look, "Don't call me General, boy. I resigned my commission twenty years ago. I'm just a humble merchant now."

"Are you now?" Finn countered, "Awfully convenient that you arrived right as we dropped out of hyperspace."

"Don't get funny with me, boy."

"I'm not. I'm just making an observation."

"He does have a point, sir," Poe stepped between the two men, his arm defensively covering Finn, "what are you doing out here? How'd you find us?"

"I would think that both of those would be obvious," Han deadpanned. "especially if Rey explained the origins of this ship to you."

"So, you installed that beacon on this ship?" Rey asked, fully knowing the answer. Han cocked a half smile at her.

"Kiddo, did you really think I'd let my son run off with you on this pieced together hunk of 12 different ships without a little insurance? The moment your hyperdrive went online, so did that beacon. And it led us right to you."

"You could've told me first," Rey replied softly.

 _Grrawr!_ Chewie growled and Rey nodded soberly.

"Yes, I suppose Cale would've tried to rip it out if he knew. "

"You're damn right he would've," Han said with a little pride, "he's my boy. I wouldn't have expected any differently from him."

"You still could've told **me** ," she repeated, a little more hurt this time. Han smiled like any father would and took her by the shoulders.

"Kiddo, I love you like a daughter, but you're terrible at keeping secrets. You got that from your dad."

"Yeah, I suppose so," she said distantly. Han's face saddened slightly. He didn't need to ask the unspoken question. Her forlorn look was enough, and he patted her shoulder comfortingly. This was followed by Chewie taking her in a softer embrace, his big arms enveloping her like a toy. Han turned back to Poe:

"Now, to answer your first question: Leia assumed the worst and I went snooping around Jakku. Problem was, nothing was coming or going, so we parked and waited."

"That makes sense," Finn nodded, "the Admiral would've requested SATCOM support if operations on Jakku had to be extended. Jam all communications coming in or out."

"Admiral?" Han asked suspiciously, "Which one?"

Finn froze for a moment, but eventually relented. There was little point now in holding back what he knew.

"Grand Admiral Ramius Hux," Finn answered, "he was given operational command of the mission to Jakku."

"Ah," Han shook his head, "Ackbar's gonna love this."

"They faced each other over Jakku, if I'm not mistaken?" Finn nodded, "Our history teaches that the two of them were the masters of the stars only being outmatched by Grand Admiral Thrawn himself." Finn mused to himself.

"Huh, I don't think Ackbar would expect flattery from an Imperial," Han grumbled softly.

"No, not flattery, sir. Respect. We may have lost the war, but we're willing to admit how and why."

"'We'?" Han repeated doubtfully, "You almost sound like you're still a Stormtrooper."

When Finn's eyes became rather downcast, Poe was quick to stand to his defense, "Sir, you have to understand that he was inducted and trained since he was kid. If you expect him to-"

Finn suddenly held up his hand, "Poe, he's right to mistrust me. I would've been surprised if he didn't."

"You're a sharp one, kid," Han smirked, "I learned a long time ago not to trust anything that seems too good to be true."

" _A lesson most of the old Jedi could have learned,"_ Chewie grumbled softly, granted only Rey, Han and BB-8 understood that bit.

"Oh come on," Rey protested, "they weren't all like that."

" _Yes, but the point still stands,"_ Chewie countered, " _I gladly would've given my life for them, and you, but that does not discount the way things played out in the end… as unfortunate as they were."_

Though he couldn't understand what the Wookie was saying, Finn could guess the intent via his body language. To him and Han, he nodded, "Indeed."

Han took on last look at the man before he finally sighed in resignation, "We'll figure out what to do with you later. In the meantime, we need to get the hell out of the system," and with that, he turned about and headed past Chewie, bellowing out to the standing B-1 with a yellow insignia, "have the Raptor brought into the hangar bay and have our tech teams take a look at the engines."

" _Roger Roger,"_ the commanding droid replied, and began issuing out orders to the rest of network. And with that, Han disappeared around the corner, leaving everybody there standing rather awkwardly.

"I… guess we follow him?" Poe more stated than asked, but it got the reaction he wanted. The posse quickly took off after the retired smuggler. After a few seconds of waiting in the boarding pylon for the pressure to normalize, the blast doors finally opened with a loud hiss. Before them was the massive interior of a freighter, with an army of droids bustling about and generally moving very large crates via grav-trays. Behind them, the boarding pylon retracted and the Raptor was moved further up into the bowels of the ship.

"Okay, I gotta ask," Rey piped up, "why do you have so many droids around? I thought you hated droids?"

Han shrugged, "I do, but they're cheaper than hiring an actual crew and they complain less."

"Complain about what exactly?"

Their answer came when one of the shipment crates passed them and it erupted with a sudden and violent roar as something inside tried to break out. Poe's head turned very slowly to Han, "Sir, what the hell are you transporting?"

"Lots of things," Han shrugged as they kept on walking, "spice, contraband, most black market goods you can think of… and that of course was a wampa."

"You're transporting wampas!?" Poe exclaimed.

" _Grrarw!"_ Chewie growled matter of factly.

"What do you mean that's not the worst your transporting?" Rey asked rather indignantly, "What do you have that's worse than a wampa?"

Han shot her a knowing grin, "I think it'd be better if we just showed you."

A moment later, a cheap looking hovercraft came up and Han quickly shoved its droid pilot out of the seat, with everybody else piling in. A minute later, they quickly saw what Han meant. Rey shook her head in disbelief, "Han… I know Uncle Lando would be crazy enough to try something like this… but you of all people?"

" _Who do you think got us most of the critters?"_ Chewie smirked at her and all Rey could do was just groan with barely suppressed dread.

"Why do you even have these things?" she asked.

"'Cause," Han laughed, "they're worth a fortune each, they're a good cover, and nobody ever stops to check your cargo when you're hauling around at least thirty of the most dangerous monsters one can find."

" _And nobody cares if a couple hundred droids gets smashed in the process, so I call it a good tradeoff!"_ Chewie laughed heartily, which drew an annoyed growl from BB-8, who flew up to his face and jutted a finger at him:

" _Oh yeah, furball? How'd you feel if I turned you into a bonfire, you walking flea carpet?"_

Chewie bared his teeth at the droid and growled something so fast, so incomprehensible and so vulgar that only BB-8 himself could understand him. The result was that Finn and Poe had to restrain him from pulling out his plasma torch. He was babbling such incoherent machine babble that the only thing they got out of him was:

" _Lemme at him! Lemme at him! I'll barbeque your sorry-"_

Chewie merely smirked at him and leaned back in his chair with his hands cushioning his head. A moment later, the hovercraft took a left onto an overlapping ramp, taking them right above a massive array of containment cells, with all of its occupants leering at them either apathetically, curiously, or hungrily. Of the ones they could see, the company counted Acklays, Nexus, Wampas, Reeks, Dragonsnakes, Corellian Sand Panthers, Varactyls, Feral Maru and…

Rey's face suddenly paled. "Stop the car. Stop the car!"

Han did so, shooting her an odd expression, "What? What is it?"

But she wasn't listening. She was running over to the railing at full pace, her fear engulfed by a sudden fear that none of the others had ever quite seen. Her eyes focused on a massive hunk of brown, gray and red muscle sitting silently in the corner of its cell.

"What the hell is that thing?" Poe asked when he, Finn and BB-8 came running over. The creature had all the appearance of a Rancor with its tonnage of powerfully built muscles, claws and monstrous maw. However, it was significantly smaller than a standard Rancor, and unlike a Rancor, this beast was covered with a thick carapace of tan and red colors, tusks and spines growing out of its back, spikes hither and thither, and a massive bone frill obscuring much of its head.

That is until it stirred quietly suddenly and with a deliberate slowness, reared itself up to its full ten foot height and looked up at them. Surprisingly, its face was narrow and wide, with an array of teeth and chompers spread across a two footspans. It's beady eyes though were the most terrifying though. Red and black orbs that narrowed very slightly as it gazed past them, and directly at Rey.

It let out a purring hiss, low and rumbling that they could feel tightly in their bones. Then its long forking tongue licked across its face as it carefully reared up and reached its massive clawed hands upward towards them. It flinch with pain when it tried to pass the energy containing, but only momentarily. It crained its head slightly to the left, and gave the Jedi a toothy grin.

Rey was petrified to the spot. Her skin had turned ghostly, streams of sweat pouring down her as her eyes gazed down at the beast widely. There was strange, ravenous aura that the monster was giving off. Finn could feel it, like an oppressive heat upon his skin. He looked at Poe, and he felt it too. When they looked at Rey, completely rooted to the spot, they knew she was getting the full treatment.

"Rey? Are you okay?" Poe asked as he shook her shoulder, but she still didn't respond to his voice or touch. At this, Finn immediately grabbed her and pulled her away from the ledge, and by extension, the monster. When she was put back in the hovercar, she started whispering something that they couldn't quite hear.

Then she started to get louder, her face contorting into uncontrollable dread before she snapped out of it and began to screaming, "Kill it! Kill it! KILL IT! Oh for Force sake, kill that abomination **NOW**!"

"Easy," Finn soothed, "you're safe. You're okay."

"SAFE!?" NONE OF US ARE SAFE WITH THAT THING HERE!"

"Sir, what is that thing?" Poe asked Han pointly, whose face was caught between guilt, worry and utter confusion.

"It's just a baby Rancor we picked up on Kashyyyk-"

"THAT'S NOT A RANCOR!" Rey screamed at him, "THAT'S A TERENTATEK!"

Han and Chewie's faces collectively paled, "Oh no."

"A what?" Poe asked.

"It's basically a Dark Side Rancor that sees Jedi as a living sandwich," Han explained as he buried his face in his hand with groan, "Luke told me about them once. They only show up apparently when that stuff is on the rise."

"Y-yyou mean like n-nnow?" Rey stammered, rolling back and forth while trying not to hyperventilate.

"What the hell did it do to her?" Finn asked, anger clear on his face.

" _Grrrrar!"_ Chewie growled, to which Han translated:

"They have some kind of weird connection with the Force. Allows them to use a kind of mental attack on Jedi," he looked painful at the fear stricken Rey, "paralyzes them."

"For how long exactly?" Finn asked.

"I don't know."

" _One way to find out!"_ Chewie growled, shouldering his bowcaster and marching over to the cage, " _Han, open the cage. I'm gonna kill it!"_

"Chewie, don't!" Han growled.

" _That thing hurt her. It's gonna die for that!"_

"I know, but it'll take more than your bowcaster to do it, and I don't wanna risk it getting loose!"

" _I'll kill it with my bare hands if I have to,"_ Chewie roared, " _I'll even use my claws if it comes to it."_

"D-don't…" Rey stammered, "M-mad C-claw… don't, p-pplease."

"Chewie," Han took his massive shoulder in hand, "we'll throw the damn thing out the airlock later. Right now, let's try putting some distance between her and it, 'kay?"

" _...fine,"_ Chewbacca grumbled. He marched back to the hovercar and plucked Rey up in his arms, cradling her like a baby. Immediately, everybody else got on board and got the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

The Terentatek watched them go with gleeful intent. It let out a soft purr, eager with the delightful knowledge that it would soon dine on the blood of not one, but three queries to consume… and then that ecstasy was darkened by the knowledge he would have to go through the predator first.


	21. Intermission 3 - Machinations

**Chapter 19 - Machinations**

* * *

 **Chandrila**

 **Senatorial Housing District**

* * *

Leia had expected them to arrive separately, perhaps even with a gap of several hours. She also expected some to do so by means of a covert military or even civilian affair, perhaps in the form of some nondescript and fairly normal looking hover car. Others however would have the misfortune of having a constant paparazzi on their tails due to a combination of their own political status and the fact they were coming to the shared dormitories of Leia Organa Solo and Lando Calrissian.

Naturally, Leia blamed herself fully for the latter, but there was little that could be done. Yes, a more discrete arrival on the planet might have kept the worst of the galaxy press out of their lives for a while longer, but that had been the point. She'd tried subtlety for the past decade and it had ended her right where she was now. As Lando had commented earlier, "A flash of dazzle goes a long way."

And so, she waited on the balcony, watching the falling sun descend over the high rises of her mentors homeworld. How so much of it had changed since the days of the Empire. Even Mon Mothma had been dismayed by its rapid development during its earliest transitions as the capital world of the new government.

'I wonder what she would think of all of this now,' Leia thought wearily to herself.

" _Counselor Leia,"_ C-3PO's polite, chirpy voice buzzed in her ear, " _several unmarked hover vehicles have been reported approaching the front of the compound."_

"That would be the Ackbars," Leia replied with a nod, noticing a second vehicle pulling behind them, "3PO, may I inquire where Lando is at the moment?"

" _Senator Calrissian is currently in the rotunda, ma'am. Shall I inform him that Admiral Syndulla has arrived as well?"_

Leia considered it for a moment before nodding, "Yes. please inform him."

No sooner than the nonchalant, poorly disguised military escort was through the plaza gate was it then followed by another entourage, this time trailed by a small but very persistent convoy of paparazzi. They quickly deposited their small army of reporters and attempted to close with the entourage, their bodyguards quick to push them back.

The Rangers guarding the plaza soon joined them and forced the reporters off the property into the street. Though they couldn't make them leave the area entirely, the reporters quickly lost the will to muscle their way in once the combined security force showed they meant business.

Just then, another hovercar approached, and the Rangers quickly mustered out to guide it in. "Who else is arriving?" Leia asked with a knowing smile.

" _The Senator of Mandalore, Fenn Shysa."_

Sure enough, the face of the Mandalorian Sector-and whom many considered to be the third or fourth most dashing man in galaxy-stepped out of the car. He straightening his suit and ran a hand across his graying red hair. It was strange seeing the one-time leader of the Mandalorian Protectors without his Beskar'gam armor, but Shysa was always one to adapt to whatever society required of him.

He straightened a bit, his keen eyes observing the plaza a bit before his eyes found her watching from high above. He cracked a smile and waved at her. Leia smiled and waved back, remembering the time he'd politely tried to win her hand in marriage before she'd finally settled on Han. Naturally, Shysa had kept a healthy distance, but he was always there if she called.

"Old Mando honor, I suppose," she chuckled to herself. Then a rather a familiar woman in an ornate white dress stepped out of the hovercar at the beckon of Shysa's hand, which was quickly followed by a kiss on the cheek. The lady in question blushed, giggling as she marched up to the mansion with Shysa.

" _Ma'am, I do believe that was your cousin, Senator Pooja Nabrie of Naboo."_

"Yes," Leia nodded, "and she arrived with Fenn Shysa instead of her own escort."

" _...would you like me to request an investigation into the matter? I can relay a message to Commandant Shrike on Takodana-"_

"No no, that's quite alright, 3PO. I will just ask. Oh by the way, is the Aquillan Ambassador coming?"

" _I am not certain, ma'am. I am told he did receive your message, but he has to check in with traffic control."_

Leia nodded, "Let me know if he does arrive," and she left the balcony, the shield covering it dimming when she stepped away.

As she walked down the padded and gilded halls of the luxury house, she had a moment of doubt enter her mind. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Was this doubt about what she was trying to accomplish or the events she was about to set in motion to get to said goal?

"A little of both I suppose," she said to herself, taking a moment to catch her wits and straighten her formal white Jedi robes. These naturally wouldn't be the clothes she'd be wearing when the summit came, but they were her most comfortable. Besides, she was among friends, so she went with a smile.

As she rounded the hallway and took the stairs, she encountered the first of these. "Shall I take you coat, Admiral Syndulla?" The attendee asked, and the aged fleet commander nodded. She removed her simple overcoat to reveal a splendid black velvet dress that was a stark contrast to her usual Navy attire or even her more 'casual' flight suits.

"I see you dressed for the occasion," Leia commented with a smile as she walked down the stairs towards the attending area.

"Counselor Organa-" The green Twi'lek attempted a formal salute before Leia beckoned with her hand.

"Please, Hera, let's not stand on ceremony here. After all, this is just a dinner and discussion among close friends."

The former commander of the Phoenix Fleet-the first true formal military outfit of the early Rebellion-and now commander of the New Republic's 3rd Fleet, smiled gratefully and offered a warm embrace which Leia took gladly.

"It's been a long time, your highness," Hera soothed softly, "I'm sorry I didn't come earlier."

"As I understand it, you were still chasing pirates around the Maw of Kessel."

"Yes," She nodded, her eyes blazing with an aged anger, "another of Tyber's sortees. I, of course, can't prove this, but who else would striking that far into New Republic space?"

"And Zorba?" Leia asked rather cooly. She hadn't forgotten the fact that the Hutt's still had a sizable bounty on her head, and Zorba especially wanted hers for the death of his son, Jabba.

"He's been keeping quiet for the past few months, but I know the slug is up to something. You can never find a Hutt that isn't plotting to stab everybody he knows in the back."

"I wouldn't say that about Rotta," Leia countered with a small smile.

"He's the exception rather than the rule," a gravelly voice echoed out from behind them, "being branded both an outcast and enemy of the state tends to change a man."

"Especially when you're son of the last slug to nearly ran things into the ground," another, slightly less gravelly voice added, "by **dying**."

From the shadows emerged Fleet Admiral Gial Ackbar, the New Republic's former supreme commander, and Vice Admiral Winsen Raddus, one-time commander of the Krakana Fleet and the current Commander of the 10th stationed around the Hosnian Sector. Both men entered the gala dressed with Navy dress blues along with ceremonial crimson sashes given awarded for their exemplary service to Mon Cala. They offered a formal bow to Leia, and she in turn curtseyed with a smile.

"Yes, I am quite aware," Leia nodded grimly, "I don't suppose you know what the bounty is currently?"

"A million for you," Raddus answered, handing off his and Ackbar's coat to the standing attendee, "and about… what was it, Uncle? 500,000 for Han?"

"No, 750,000. The 500,000 was for Master Skywalker."

Hera had to laugh, "I'm sorry, but half a million seems a little light for the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order. Honestly, it would be light for any Jedi for that matter."

Raddus grinned at her, "You try handing out half a million for two hundred plus Jedi, Hera. I guarantee you'll be bankrupt by the end of the week."

"Anymore bankrupt than your Viscounts, Winsen?" Hera smirked at him.

"Hera, I think you would greatly enjoyed the benefits of one at Lothal, cost included. You certainly didn't complain when I brought the _Profundity_ to Scarif."

"Complain? How about when I got caught between you and the Devastator's little turbo laser exchange and nearly got blown to pieces?"

"Well, if you hadn't parked your ship between us, I could have disabled that ship!"

"That old bucket of bolts couldn't stand up to even a Victory-Class!"

"Bucket of bolts? How dare you. That beat up, second-rate Corellian hauler of yours deserves that title more than the _Profundity_. At least I didn't have to rely on sheer Imperial incompetence to win my battles!"

"You speak of incompetence, and yet you tout Scarif. _Devastator_ knocked you out in one go!"

"That's not fair, he came out of hyperspace while I was protecting **your** fleet!"

"And what a great job you did."

"Why you-"

"Children," Ackbar laughed barkingly, grabbing the two roughly by their shoulders and bringing over like misbehaving toddlers, "it has been thirty years since the war, and you still fight like siblings. When shall you ever grow up from such childish games?"

Hera and Raddus took one look at each and unanimously said, "Never."

"Well well well," a voice laden with a heavy drawl and slight sarcastic twang rang out, "tis mighty tragic. Ol' friends fightin' amongst each other? Tsh tsh, and here I am thinkin' y'all would be setting the mighty fine standard for tonight. Seems I'll have to do that myself."

With this stepped from the shadows the next two expected guests, and Leia noted that Pooja was holding Shysa's arm with a suspicious tenderness.

"Says the man who looks like a Bantha Herder," Hera chuckled back, "you even have the beard to boot, Shysa."

"Oh, blame me for that," Pooja's rather sultry and regal voice chuckled, "I quite like a dashing gentleman with a," she imitated Shysa's peculiar accent with terrible accuracy, "'mighty fine whiskers.'"

"Aw," Shysa cooed as he gave the Naboo royalty's hand an amorous squeeze, "thank ye kindly, Ms. Naberrie."

"Ms. Naberrie…" Leia mused softly, "Poojah, if something truly life changing were to happen to you or perhaps between you and someone else… would you tell me? Would you confide in me before you did something truly bold and rash?"

"Bold an' rash?" Shysa clutched his heart, "Me? Have ye so little trust in little ol' me?"

"Yes," Leia deadpanned, "I haven't forgotten Endor."

"Oh come now, Leia," Poojah took her hand with a charming smile, "we're merely courting, and as serving member of both the Crown and the Senate without a husband, I am obligated to do so. And it is **my** choice to make, after all."

Leia considered her words very carefully, but after looking again at the tenderness shared between the two of them, she could only settle with, "I suppose so."

"Besides," Hera chided in with a soft chuckle, "there are plenty of worse suitors to choose from."

"An' I'd be obliged to shoot everyone of those other suitors for their shortcomings," Shysa smiled broadly.

"Well hello there," Lando's voice reported behind them as he came down the hallways, wearing yet another rather lavishing cloak and cape, "have I missed anything particular… oh, hello, Mrs. Syndulla."

"Lando," Hera nodded, "I see Leia invited you here, too."

"On the contrary, my dear," Lando smiled, "I've actually been here longer than she has. So, technically, I invited you."

"I see."

"So… how have you been?"

"Fine."

"How's your knee?"

"Recovering. Are you still wearing a cup?"

"Around you? Always."

"Shame."

"Not for me, at least," Lando shot her a sabaac-faced smile, "and most certainly not for your knee. So," he turned to Leia, "I do in fact believe we're missing someone."

"Someone?" Shysa asked, slightly bemused, "Yer tellin' me that this mighty fine posse we got here ain't even finished? Who else is showing up?"

"Your opposite number," Leia smiled before putting his hand up to the comm on her lapel, "Status?"

" _He still has not arrived, Counselor Leia,"_ 3PO answered, " _though the Rangers inform me he should be planetside already."_

"Understood. Keep me advised."

" _Of course, Counselor. Have a good evening, out."_

"In the meantime. Shall we have dinner?"

* * *

The next forty or so minutes were largely spent in idle conversation and generally catching up on things. Namely, the topic was Poojah and Shysa's 'courting' and how it had slipped past Leia's notice.

"To be quite honest with y'all," Shysa said with a half-hearted shrug as he held up a slice of Nerf steak, "tis only been goin' on for less than a month. I met her during the negotiatin' procedures between the Mandalorian and Naboo Sectors regardin' that new hyperspace lane the Wookies found a few months back. Turns out that our worlds sat on opposite ends, so a deal needed to be struck. So, I went, saw this hellova woman," that earned a blush from Poojah, who had to put up her fork of spring-seed to cover her mouth in embarrassment, "and I thought to myself 'I oughta take this lass out.' That led to more, and here we are."

"Oh, stop being so bashful, Fenn!" Poojah giggled softly.

Shysa raised an eyebrow, and as he took a sip of his Corellian wine, muttered, "Never been accused of that before."

"Go on, then," Lando inquired with knowing smirk, "how did you two unlikely love birds meet?"

"Oh, you know, we thwarted a Zhan-Sun plot to derail the economies of the Outer Rim."

"What?" everyone at the table asked before Lando prodded further, "How come no one's heard of it before?"

She shrugged, "Well, it unfortunately involved the blackmail of many members of several political and royal houses on a number of worlds-"

"Including those Feminists on Hapes," Shysa smirked, "took a manly man and a princess from Naboo to save their sorry hides."

Poojah rolled her eyes with a laugh, "Yes, them too. I'm assuming you all heard about the near crash of the Mid Rim New Housing Market a month ago?"

"I had an investment in that market," Lando admitted, "to be quite honest, I was ready to sell when things looked bad towards the end, but I held off and made quite a bit of money from it."

"Yes, though that wouldn't have been the case if the Zhan-Sun had their way with it."

"Do you have proof it was the Zhan-Sun Consortium themselves?" Ackbar asked.

"Course not," Shysa shook his head, "couldn't find ol' Tyber Zhan with even a finger in someone else's pie without him having a good excuse. Still, continue Poojah. I'm fascinated by this."

"You were there, too!" Poojah laughed.

"Exactly. The elegance of your story tellin' is such that even I'm captivated. So please, continue."

A friendly laugh and eye roll later, Poojah continued her tale, "We noticed an unusual number of outside finances coming from companies associated with the Outer Rim Confederation," they didn't need to be told of the government's deep ties to Tyber Zhan's questionable syndicate.

"So, we had our respective accountants, and later agents, look into the matter. These investments were made in a collectable share that if withdrawn in the event of a crisis would cause a recession and possibly even a depression in the Outer and Mid Rim. So, we had our agents look further into the matter, and discovered a series of blackmail and... how do I say it? Honeypot? Yes, honeypot conspiracies of several politicians and royal houses, all to secure funds for this plot. Plausible deniability and all that."

"So what did you do?" Lando asked.

"We watched and waited. Eventually, it was discovered that the bombing of several high ranking financial officials was to occur on Corellia. It didn't happen, fortunately-"

"We stuck Tobbi on the case." Fenn interjected with a smirk.

"So we can assume they're all dead now?" Hera asked, remembering the man who put all other non-com's to shame.

"All except for three, 'cept they dead now," Shysa smirked, "I've never met a man, or woman, who could stand up to Tobbi Dala's persuasiveness."

"So… What happened then?" Lando asked, "A holo-movie and dinner?"

"No, a sabaac-game at Nar Shadda," Poojah shrugged, "the people involved lost billions in their failed plan, so they tried to recoup their finances through a high-stakes game with several tycoons and other unsavory people."

"Never had to resist shooting so many folks in my life," Shysa muttered as he took another sip of his wine.

"So, we entered the game ourselves and managed to win," Poojah concluded, "the Cartel in question lost all their money, which belonged to their investors, and came to us for protection. After that, it was a simple matter of picking apart the rest of the conspiracy."

"Afterwards, we had 13 million to our name that needed spendin'," Shysa finished, "most of it went to solidifying the Hyperspace Deal, rest went to me taking this beautiful lass on a walk through the best of the galaxy," Poojah giggled again when he gave her an affectionate squeeze.

"We found it so much fun that we thought we should make it a more serious matter," Poojah took Shysa's hand in hers, "and here we are."

"Wow," everybody said at once.

"Y'know, I'm starting to see a pattern here," Lando commented, "most of the couples I see here at this table seemed to have come to be after rather extraordinary escapades that usually involves the fate of the galaxy. Why can't you be like me and meet your spouses during a simple business transaction?"

"Pfff, 'cause that be boring, sir," Shysa scoffed.

"I suppose so," Leia murmured, shaking her head, "Poojah, I wish you'd told me sooner."

"We wanted to make it a surprise!" Poojah exclaimed.

"Heh," Raddus chuckled to Ackbar as he whispered, "so he couldn't get Leia, so he instead settles on her cousin."

That earned a hearty laugh from the older Mon Cala which drew an irate glare from the Mandalorian. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Raddus said with a Sabaac-Face.

"Still," Lando interjected, "thank you for saving my investments. Like I said, I made quite a bit of money off of that, and I will gladly compensate you for it."

Raddus shook his head, "Lando, why are you always getting involved in shady deals?"

" _Viscounts_ , Raddus," Hera smiled.

"That doesn't count! That was a matter of galactic security!"

"Raddus, we all know you were jealous of the fact you could never get your hands on an _Imperial-II_."

" _Imperial-I_ , Hera," Raddus corrected with a scoff, "the _Imperial-I_ was an excellent design. But an _Imperial-II_? Bah. What folly thought up removing all point weapon systems when we relied heavily upon our starfighters to do most of our work?"

"The folly of Tarkin, as I understand it," a deep, rather elegant voice suddenly echoed from behind them as Leia's comm buzzed:

" _Ma'am, Ambassador Titus is here. He wouldn't wait for-"_

"As I can see," Leia rose from her chair with an extended hand, "welcome, Ambassador Titus. We weren't sure if you were coming or not."

"My deepest apologies for our late arrival, Counselor Organa Solo. There were… complications that had to be addressed back in the Segmentum before I was permitted to attend the assembly."

"Perfectly understandable. I am glad the Aquillans agreed to meet us on this issue to begin with."

From the shadows emerged a giant of a man. He was as though a great bronze statue had been brought to life, all barely contained in the simple red and white robes of his office. His face, however was martial in every aspect, from the crewcut to a heavy square jaw and eyes that told of a hundred battles.

Yet despite this, there was a strange kindness to them, and it reminded Leia greatly of her brother. They grew dark however as he continued, "I'm afraid the matter is not that simple, Counselor. This we can speak of at another time. I wish to present my wife, Mira."

Everyone's eyes widened at the woman standing at his Titus' side. She was dressed in the dress uniform of the New Republic Army, her hair tied in a bun but with enough to conceal the subtle scars marking the side of her heart shaped face. However, her most distinguished feature was the medal hanging from around her neck: the Star of Alderaan. She had been its youngest recipient.

"Admirals, Senators, Counselor," she snapped to a sharp salute, "a pleasure to be attending this meeting, sirs."

"At ease, Colonel Nero," Ackbar chuckled, "this is not a military tribunal, after all."

"Regardless, sir," she beamed with pride at the retired Fleet Admiral, "but thank you."

"So what brings the hero of Graia here?" Ackbar continued, "Especially from your post at Cardia?"

"Officially, sir? I never left. But unofficially, my husband invited me to come and my second is overseeing the Fighting First."

"I didn't realize the two of you were wed," Leia commented carefully, "when did this occur?"

"When I made Captain, ma'am," Mira smiled as Titus offered his arm, and she took it affectionately.

"Why do I have the feeling it goes back further than that?" Leia probed.

Mira met her gaze unapologetically. "I suppose you could say it started on Graia, when Titus arrived to reinforce us after the Ssi-Rook killed or incapacitated my superiors, ma'am."

"Hold on, Graia?" Lando shook his head, looking at Titus, "This was back when you were still Legate of The Warborn. The Legio XIII?"

"It was," Titus nodded.

"I thought you Segmentum boys frowned on relationships while in the Legion."

"They do," he nodded, cracking a smile, "but there is a saying among we Aquillans. 'One does not know thy fellows till battle shows their true self.' When I met Mera, she was merely a Lieutenant but she had the fortitude of stronger men. I dare say I found that quite… attractive, as one might say."

"Aw, thank you, dear," she soothed as Titus squeezed her shoulder endearingly. It was such an alien sight from the two veteran soldiers, and Titus chuckled at their expressions.

"I do apologize for the abruptness of this presentation, but it was by design. As Senator Calrissian noted, scandal and disgrace would've plagued the both of us had our relationship been made public. When my term to the Legion ended and I retired into Civil Service, I arranged a private ceremonial over the Moons of Juniper, and it has thankfully been kept a private enough for our liking."

"You are sweet when you're being modest, dear." Mira smiled as she took his massive hand in hers.

"What is a proper man if not humble, puella?"

"Well ain't that a first?" Shysa snorted.

The Aquillans eyes met the Mandalorians darkly. "Senator Shysa. It's been a long time since we last met."

"Ambassador Titus," Shysa replied, rising to meet him. He found his impressive height still coming short of the Aquillans, requiring him to look up at him, "I didn't expect to be in the same room with you since that little affair over Jarain."

"Let's not stand on the foundations of petty politics, Shysa. I am not here for them."

"There are some in Lady Sabine's court that might disagree with that proclamation, sir. A great many still demand blood for what you did. They say your witch hunt should've accounted for outright war."

Leia rose to her feet, but Titus held up a hand. "I have heard, and I do not care. Your failure to bring an end to the threat of Deathwatch prompted our intervention. And while I stand by my actions that day, what happens tonight does not concern then."

"I ain't so sure 'bout that," Shysa grumbled, "nor about the commitment of the Segmentum in this matter."

Titus sighed, for the first time the weariness of billions coming to bear visibly upon his shoulder, "Yes, you have reasons to doubt the Segmentum through our past actions, and perhaps more by what news I bring. But that is not the point. Though our people are rivaled by martial tradition, we also exist in alignment of the **same** banner. If it is to remain upright and unmarred, we two men of our peoples must show the example needed."

Shysa nodded and was about to same something before Titus interrupted, "I will say this so that the matter does not grow in shadow. I do not partake to the rather arrogant nature of Mandalorians, Senator Shysa. But I do have the utmost respect for you and what you managed to accomplish," Titus then offered him his arm, "it is therefore my honor to meet you privately, without the complications of nations calling our beck, sir."

Shysa looked the man up and down with a bemused smile, "You always start with insultin' people 'fore you go back to complimenting them? Heh, I suppose it's that superiority complex you Aquillans take such pride in. But the feelin' is mutual, Ambassador Titus."

He then took the man's arm in the classic forearm handgrip. He winced slightly at the sheer power the giant possessed, but Shysa grinned winningly. "In truth, I am happy to see you here."

At this, Titus smiled, "It is better to be honest with a man than to be anything else."

"I can agree with that. Who said that?"

"Me."

Chuckles and seating later, all eyes turned to Leia Organa Solo. "Ladies and gentlemen, simply put, we are on the eve of war," she began. Over the next several minutes, she explained exactly what she meant. The response was exactly what she'd expected.

Ackbar was the first to make that response vocal. "But that's impossible! The last of the Forges was destroyed-"

"Thousands of years ago, I know. But Lor San has convinced me otherwise. After all, why would The Empire invest so many resources into the search if they were not confident it was there to begin with?"

"Blast it," Ackbar growled darkly, "I should've crushed Hux at Jakku when I had the chance. Now we're paying for it."

"Not your fault, uncle," Raddus replied, "the end of war brought complications-"

"Complications be damned!" the elder Mon Cal exclaimed by slamming his fist against the table, "I warned Mon Mothma that making peace with the Remnant was a mistake. It allowed them the time to make a recovery. And if the intelligence reports I've been receiving are true, then they've done exactly that."

Leia nodded with a look of unfortunate confirmation. "Though we still have no intelligence on the size and strength of the First Order, I can wholeheartedly say that by the boldness of their recent actions over the last several weeks, and the fact that they've been actively hunting for Lor San Tekka ever since he went looking for the Forge..." she let the sentence hang.

Shysa shook his head, "That's a very dangerous accusation you're makin' there, ma'am. Not dismissin' it at all, but I do have to ask the obvious here. Do we have any substance that can be taken to the Senate and Assembly?"

"None that wouldn't involve revealing I've been sending military personnel into the DMZ," Leia replied with a shake of her head, "but that's not the point of this meeting. What I am proposing is nothing short of treason."

"Are you proposing yet another regime change?" Titus asked with a concerned frown.

"If it comes to it. Though I have made allies within the Senate and the Assembly, I'm not an idiot. In the time I left office, factions have moved to discredit me and Lando in the eyes of the New Republic, and I feel that their connections have grown the strongest especially now."

"I don't understand," Poojah said, "are you saying that there are those in the government who would side against the New Republic?"

"I am. That story you and Shysa shared with us tonight is merely the tip of this conspiracy. A conspiracy made up of short sighted officials who will stop at nothing to prevent the New Republic from entering another galactic war. Though I cannot conclusively prove it, the obviousness is there."

"That it is," Hera growled softly, "we had all the proof we needed on Takodana. We've had all the proof we needed for years. And yet we have not acted on it."

"But what you're talkin' 'bout isn't a conspiracy," Shysa countered, "the Chimera was a conspiracy. This is a movement. I've met most of the folks you're talkin' about. Yeah, they're peace-at-all-costs types, but they ain't traitors."

"No, they're useful idiots," Lando retorted, "useful idiots who are screening the real group at the core of this thing. For months, I've been having the Rangers monitor the accounts of all the politicians coming out of the Core Worlds. A great majority of them have been receiving generous donations all from a series of foundations all with ties to a series of shell companies, and we all know that they haven't exactly been subtle with their preferences for the old Empire."

"Bread and circuses," Titus snorted, "no different than what happened in our own history with the Zakuul Empire. If I were a guessing man, I would say that these same officials would sell the Core Rim the moment a war begins."

Leia winced visibly, but nodded all the same, "If that happens, both the best and worst case scenario would be a nightmare."

"How so?" Poojah asked.

"Worst case, the First Order blitzes the inner core and captures it with little opposition."

"And best case, you will get a conflict that will make Antiga look like children fighting," Titus grimly said, "in either situation, you will be forced to fight a defensive conflict in the North with your greatest production centers firmly in the hands of the enemy, or contested at the very least."

"And that will not be the worst of it," Hera sighed, "Kanan once taught me that there are no such things as coincidences. Zhan's actions within the Outer Rim, Zorba consolidating power? And now the Forge? I think you can see where I'm going with this."

"Like wolves circling prey," Mira nodded, "we'll have the First Order to the north, and the cartel's to our south."

Leia nodded, "Which is why I've gathered you here. Three admirals, and four representatives of the four sectors that will decide the fate of the New Republic Our enemies made their first move when they destroyed my brother's Jedi Order. Now, they are making their next step. And as unfortunate as it is to admit it, we cannot even rely on our government to stop what is coming."

"'Peace in our time,'" Lando snorted, "what a sad joke. So, it should be pretty obvious what we have in mind."

"You're right," Raddus said, "this is nothing short of treason. If news got out about what we're doing, it's likely we'd be hanged."

"No more than it was with the Empire," Ackbar mused, "I will have to reinstate my commission with the Navy-"

"That's already been arranged," Lando replied smoothly, "the 5th will be yours to command by the end of the week."

"And Fey'lya?"

"Out of the way. Like we said, we just had to appeal to his more patriotic sense."

"Then you've had more luck than I did in the early days," Ackbar chuckled dryly.

"No offense, uncle," Raddus smirked, "but you and Fey'lya were like two rancors fighting over a kill. I doubt the two of you could've agreed on anything."

"Well, evidently we agree on one thing."

"Still, what is Senator Fey'lya to gain in all this?" Titus asked, "In all my deals with the Bothan, every action that is tread by them is done with the purpose of some self-acquisition. So, what shall he achieve by the end of this?"

"Probably fame, fortune and being on the right side of history," Lando shrugged, "still, can't have any of that if there isn't a New Republic to begin with."

"Then Fey'lya has a better understanding of duty than even some of my own fellows," Titus shook his head with these last words.

"Okay, I need to ask the obvious," Shsya began but Titus interrupted him promptly.

"I will be blunt, not artful. The Segmentum faces the very serious possibility of a civil war in the event of a galactic conflict."

"But I thought the Imperialist were still a political minority?" Poojah pointed out but Titus shook his head.

"We Aquillans value strength above all else. And if not outright strength, than the appearance of it. A unified Segmentum provides at the very least the convincing illusion needed to keep its foundations standing. And for this, those would seek to remove our Republican institutions in favor of the restoration of Zakuulian Imperialism have played by these rules."

"But?" Shysa asked.

"That may not be the case much longer. There are many proponents in the Senate and the Legionus Militarum who believe that the Segmentum itself is holding itself back. That they believe the policies of Valkorian, not Hadrianus, present the greatest good for the glory and sustainability of Aquilla, and in a way they are correct."

He then pointed directly at Shysa, "Though your Mandalorians attempt not to be so, your history is rooted firmly in the Neo Crusaders and their martial traditions, are they not?"

Shysa twitched rather uncomfortably but nodded, "Yeah, they are. But we ain't the Neo Crusaders. We don't go about attemptin' to conquer and enslave."

"And yet you still hold onto those same martial traditions that produced such abhorrent legacies."

"I think I get what you're sayin'," Shysa nodded, "though the Segmentum has tried to distance itself from Zakuul, the fact it's still very proud of being soldiers and what not is the exact reason this happenin'?"

"Yes. Under Volkorian, the Imperium was unrivaled in its time and we conquered a mighty expanse from both the Old Republic and the Sith. Our society was fueled by conquest and tribute. However, our part in the war spurred on Galactic Dark Age and brought stagnation and dissolution. Hadrianus was the first to see this and sought reform and consolidation, to become creators rather than conquerors. Of this, I believe wholeheartedly and it is what the Segmentum was built upon under Aurelian."

He shook his head and sighed, "But there are those who believe that expansion, not consolidation is the future of Aquilla. That we Aquillans were meant to be the masters of the stars, and that we hold ourselves back by not embracing this philosophy. After all, every war we have fought since the Segmentum's founding has been in our own defense and in the requested defense of others. It has been a thousand years since we've led wars of conquest. The Imperialist believe this must change."

"Are they actually serious about this?" Lando asked, "Like, if the shooting starts-"

"Senator," Mira interrupted, "Aquillans don't have a sense of humor," this drew a glance from Titus, "at least, not in the ha ha sort of way. More like, laugh at pain and all that. My point is when an Aquillan says he'll do something, he'll damn well do it or die. The Imperialists will fight for their ideals, and if that means fighting us or maybe even ally with the First Order, then it'll be done."

"Oh great," Shysa chuckled darkly, "so we're surrounded. Please tell me Thrawn's not going to war too?"

He shot a look at Hera, and she shook her head. "Thrawn's not interested in exposing his empire to problems not his own. He's more concerned with making sure the galaxy is still upright for when his boogeymen show up."

"I wouldn't take his claims seriously-" Leia began but Hera shot her down with a cold glace.

"You don't know Thrawn. I do. If he believes there is a threat coming, then it probably is. After all, why else would the Empire allow him to build his own Imperium, excuse the expression, Titus, in the Unknown Regions?"

"Your pardon, Hera," Tutus replied, "but I thought Thrawn made his leave after his Decimation of Mon Cala?"

Hera shook her head, "Thrawn was never a truly loyal member of the Empire. He only served with them because he believed they were the best chance the galaxy had against such an invasion. However, he personally told me that because of the Rebellion's continued survival and the Emperor's insistence on building the Death Star, the Empire was destined to fall. And it did. It's the reason why he's kept the Empire of the Hand out of the New Republic's way."

"As long as he continues to stay out of our way," Raddus snorted, "any chance he might-"

"Not at the moment," Hera shook her head, "he won't make a move unless he's certain who will win this war."

"Great," Shysa reiterated, "we're still surrounded! So, what exactly is your plan then, Leia? I mean, four sectors, and yes, four," he looked at Ackbar, "you mebbe retired, but you haven't exactly been idle, now are you?"

Ackbar shrugged, "Everyone needs a hobby."

"Sure. Still, 4 sectors, 3 admirals with 3 fleets, plus the mebbe inclusion of the Aquillans… what are you planning, exactly? Are you planning to start a private war?"

"Of a sorts," Leia pulled up a holographic map over the tabletop, "if nothing else, a delaying action. These two locations, Hosnia and Lothal, represent the two most likely entry points into New Republic space via an invading army. If these two points are secured, we can respond to a direct invasion and at least hold up the enemy until the New Republic can fully mobilize."

"Two fleets aren't going to last very long though," Ackbar noted, "for a short time, yes, but not with the projections you're suggesting," he then pointed out a dozen locations on the map, "though not nearly as easy to travel through, these other routes could be used to just bypass Lothal and Hosnia."

"Hence why we need Mandalore, Naboo, Anoat and Mon Cala specifically to be ready to immediately mobilize in the event of war," Leia retorted, "you four represent the most militarized and industrialized sectors whose loyalty to the New Republic is unquestioned. With you four, this plan might actually have a chance of working. The question is…" she let the obvious statement hang in the air.

Shysa was the first to respond, smiling matter-of-factly, "You really need to ask? Of course Lady Sabine will be in on this."

"I share the same sentiment as Fenn," Poojah nodded, "the court has always been behind you, Leia. And they have no intentions of being under the bootheel of **anyone** ever again."

"And you know our answer," Raddus said, "we fought and died for this New Republic. We sure as hell will not let it die with a whimper or a bang. And I doubt you need to ask Lando his opinion either."

Lando shrugged, "We saw the writing on the wall years ago. We've been waiting for the moment since those old Imperial wannabes showed their face in the galaxy."

"And I will inform the Consulate of these affairs, privately," Titus added in, "with great hope and haste, we might be able to join this war on the right side within the right moment."

"And the Fighting First will be ready to deploy where you need us," Mira nodded resolutely, "though I am rather curious about something. You pointed out where two of the fleets are going, but I clearly see three. Where shall that be deployed?"

"That will be of the Fifth," Leia replied, "Ackbar's first stop will be to Cardia to retrieve the 1st Division."

"And after?" Ackbar asked.

"Once we have the intelligence in our hands, you will be going after the Forge," she looked around the faces of her closest allies and at the map of the galaxy about to tear itself apart again. The foreboding weight of it all set her face into stone, her tone like steel.

"Above all else, we need to get to the Forge first. Simply put, if we don't… then we're going to be in for a very hard war indeed."


	22. Chapter 17 - Unforseen Truths

**Chapter 17 - Unforeseen Truths**

* * *

 _ **The Eravana**_

 **Edge of New Republic Space**

* * *

Han worked the hovercraft, his hands gripping the controls tightly with whitening knuckles as he berated himself for bringing that damned monster on the ship. How could he have been so stupid? Luke had even shown him one years ago and he'd somehow missed it. Stupid, like he had been back in Mos Eisley.

Truth was, he'd been lucky. If Greedo hadn't tried to take him alive… he shrugged off the thought. If there was one thing he still had, it was luck. It was the thing that had brought them here, and it was the thing that was going to get them out of it. But those words ran hollow when he looked at the paling Rey.

He felt the terror on her face a thousand fold. She wasn't his kid, but she damn well still felt like it. He looked ahead and pulled on the brake, bringing them over to the ships medbay and Chewie was off with her at a run.

When they finally caught up, he already had her plugged into several vital scanners and an IV drip for the shock.

"How's she doing, Chewie?" Han asked. Chewie didn't answer at first, instead checking her vitals again until he nodded with a grim satisfaction.

" _It'll take some time, but the drugs should help her body shrug off the effects of whatever the hell spell that_ _ **thing**_ _put on her."_

"I hope you're right," Han sighed as he settled into a chair, his hand perched against his head, "after three years, I not only found a Jedi, but **her** of all people. I am not gonna lose her again."

At that moment, Poe and Finn walked into the room. They immediately moved to her side, doing exactly what Chewie had been doing not ten seconds earlier. Chewbacca growled for them to sit, and they rigidly obeyed like sulken cats.

"So… how long is this thing gonna last?" Poe asked Han.

"You're asking the wrong person kid. Figures, too. I find my son's sweetheart just as I'm transporting that damn monster," he slammed his fist into the arm rest, ready to throw the whole thing, too. "Cale would never forgive me if anything happened to her on my watch."

"Sir, you wouldn't happen to know where he or… well, anybody else is?"

Han gave him something of an annoyed look, "If I did, I most certainly would not be out here with a damn Terentatek on this damn freighter."

Suddenly, Rey let out a sudden cry of pain and everybody was around her. She writhed in agony, her face a mess of tears.

"Chewie, what the hell is going on!?" Han cursed.

" _It's the last stages of the spell. A sort of last party gift,"_ he spat out the words with spite, " _it pulls up the worst memories you have and forces you to relive them like you're actually there."_

BB-8 translated that for Poe, and he shook his head. "Why the hell would it do that? Isn't it enough that he practically froze her like a popsicle?"

" _It's a Sith creation,"_ Chewie explained through the droid, " _killing Jedi is what it's designed to do and those scuttas wanted to make sure it was as painful of an experience as possible. If it couldn't kill you, then it sure as the shadow lands would make you hurt."_

"No… no…" Rey panted as she twisted her head back and forth, gripping the sheets of with ice cold fingers until she shrieked, "NO! CALE, PLEASE!"

Now everything around them not bolted down was sent flying. As they ducked under the barrage, Rey began slamming her head into the bed over and over. Han rushed over, trying to stabilize her.

"YOU MIND GIVING ME A HAND HERE!?" he bellowed. They quickly secured her extremities before she could hurt herself, ignoring the writhing as she thrashed the room with her uncontrolled telekinesis. A long minute passed as she finally settled back down, muttering something they couldn't hear as fresh tears streamed down her face.

Han gently took her by the cheek, soothing softly. "It's okay. You're gonna be alright. You're safe. It's gonna be okay."

"I don't get it," Poe said suddenly, "Cale talked about her like he was ready to propose. Why would her worst memory be of him?"

"I don't know," Han sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair, "maybe it has something to do with what happened at Antiga."

There was a hint of doubt and dread in his voice. He had known the type of terror that came with love. But this… this had sounded different. Something so terrible that he wanted to dismiss all together. But it was still there, lingering in the back of his mind.

"Han…" Rey reached out for him, "Han…"

He took her hand in his own. "I'm here."

"Han… alone. I need to be…"

"Okay. We'll leave you-"

"Not… you. Stay, please. I… I need to tell you…" and she choked up again. Han nodded and gestured. Reluctantly, Poe, Finn and BB-8 filed out of the room. All except for Chewbacca.

"Chewie…"

" _Whatever she has to say to you, she can say to me."_

Han nodded, looking down at the fear-haunted Rey as he waited for her to gather her strength again. When she did, he almost wished she hadn't.

"Cale was at the Temple."

Han's eyes went wide, "What are you talking about? Cale disappeared at Antiga-"

"He came back, Han. He came back when the First Order made their public appearance at the Committee. Before the Temple was attacked."

Han studied her eyes, trying to see if there was anything left of the Terentekel's spell left in her. There wasn't. The fear there was far too focused and clear to be addled ravings.

"Why did he come back?" he finally asked, the real question being why he hadn't he told him or Leia.

"I don't know," she said at length, her voice becoming a mewling moan, "I was in my quarters when he came to me. He was… changed. I don't know how, but I could see it in his eyes, his face. He..." she squeezed her eyes shut as she let out a strained breath, "I could feel it in him, Han."

"Feel what?"

"The Darkness," she then latched onto Han's hand with fingers as cold as ice, "like it had been at Antiga but worse. So much worse. It was as though his soul was being torn two ways and… and I couldn't even see who was winning."

"Rey, what did he do?"

"Han…" she pleaded before he snapped.

"What did he do?!" He stopped himself short, fighting back the growing desperation. He rubbed his hand through her hair again, soothing, "I'm sorry, Rey."

She took his hand again, her face devolving into a terrified mess until she finally found the conviction to say what needed to be said. "He betrayed us. He brought the enemy to the Temple."

It was like a bolt of lightning had struck him in the heart. "Rey… no, that can't be. My son… Rey, this has gotta be a mistake. This is just the Terentek's spell talking."

" _It's not,"_ Chewie shook his head, " _she's in perfect control of her functions and her mind. What she says is the truth."_

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Han screamed, "I refuse to believe it."

"Han, it's true," Rey whimpered as her eyes became pink with tears, "when he came to me, he told me to run. He told me to run and hide and that he was sorry for what he was about to do. About what he **had** to do… and then he was gone."

"What do you mean he was gone?" Han shook her shoulder, "Stay with me, Rey. What do you mean he was gone?"

"He was never there," she whispered, "It was just a projection. A trick. He was somewhere altogether. And when he went, so did the lights and they…" she then began to sob again, "oh stars! They started killing us!"

"Who? Who was killing you? Who?"

"Red blades," she managed to get out through her sobs, "and ships down on us! We tried… I tried to fight them, Han. But I couldn't. Oh Force!" and Han took her face into his shoulder, comforting her as she wailed, "I ran away! I ran and hid like a stupid, stupid coward!"

"Don't say that," Han growled as he took her mess of a face in his hand, "you are not a coward. You hear me? You are brave and honest and strong, and I don't wanna hear you talking like that again."

"But I did," she blubbered, "I ran while so many others died. Han… I don't even know if my own father is alive."

" _He is,"_ Chewie replied, " _I know he is. Your father is the toughest man I've ever met… no offense, Han."_

"Chewie, do I look like I punch Krayt Dragons to death just for the helluvit? He's more than earned that title. Still," he turned back to Rey, "you're alive. And that's what matters."

" _Because Cale warned her. Regardless of what happened, he took the time to warn her."_

"Yeah… but why? Why would he do all of this in the first place? Why?"

Rey didn't have an answer for that. All she could do was bury her face in Han's shoulder and cry, and it was all Han could do to comfort her...

(Page Break)

Poe slumped against the deck wall, a look of betrayal and defeat on his face.

"I don't believe it," he deflated, "I just don't believe it."

"Poe… that wasn't right of you, or us," Finn growled, jutting a finger at BB-8 who disengaged his auditory equipment from the junction wall, "you had no right to do that."

"I had to know, Finn," Poe glared up at Finn with an icy glare, "he was my friend. I had to know."

"It wasn't for us to know. If she did-"

"He. Was. My. Friend," with each word, Poe rose to his feet and faced him with a rage that Finn had never once seen before. It was a rage that he had never felt Poe capable of. And for once in his life, Finn felt afraid.

"I understand that, but-"

"No, you don't understand!" Poe cut him off sharply, "I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for him. I would still be rotting in an Antigan cell somewhere, getting beaten and tortured and starved, day in and frickin' day out until they finally decided to put a bolt in my head!"

"And he saved you?"

"He and Ben. When just about everybody else thought I was **dead**!" he emphasized his point by slamming his fist into the wall, growing louder and louder with each syllable, "but not them. They risked everything to pull me out of the cell, to get me home… and now? Now it turns out that my friend is frickin' traitor!"

He slammed his fist again into the wall, Finn seeing blood on his knuckles.

"You wanna know how long I spent looking for him and Kali when they went missing? Six months! SIX MONTHS! And all this time, it turns out he was working for the enemy! That he led them right to 'em! That he destroyed the Jedi! How the hell am I supposed to feel about that, huh!?"

Finn didn't have an answer for him. Poe just stood there, looking at him with an unreadable face of so many conflicting emotions until he slumped against the wall, his head in his hands.

"I mean… I grew up on my mom's stories of the Jedi. Of how brave and awesome they were. She was Luke's personal pilot in those early days, y'know? I lived on every word, and I wanted to be like them. Hell, I wanted to be them. Kid's stuff I know, but it was my dream."

"And yet you became a pilot."

"It was a kid's dream, Finn. And that dream died with my mom. I ain't Force Sensitive, no matter how hard I tried to make myself believe I could be. I'm just a fighter jockie with issues."

"And I'm just an ex-Stormtrooper with issues," Finn replied as he sat next to him, "misery loves company, I suppose."

"Yeah, I guess."

BB-8 beeped mockingly. Poe's eyes went wide and he threw his jacket at the floating ball.

"And you shut up!"

BB-8 was down the hall, beeping a curse at them.

"Um… what was that?" Finn asked.

"Frickin' idiot thinks we should get-y'know what? Forget it, man, it's nothing."

"You know, I actually did wonder if you were Force Sensitive."

"Huh? Why do you say that?"

"Poe, you are either the most stupidly, luckiest person I've ever met, or you are indeed Sensitive."

"Buddy, that's all skill."

"Really? Performing a complete 90 degree turn in a cramped confinement under breakneck conditions, then lining me up perfectly so I could disable the Captain's Defender? No Poe, that is not entirely skill. That was almost physics defying."

"I don't know about physics defying. Don't get me wrong, It was a difficult as hell trick to pull off and I damn near scrub it at the end. But I did it."

"Fine. It's **practically** impossible for even the most skilled organic pilots, unless they're Force Sensitive."

"Or a droid pilot," Poe smirked, "look, I dunno, man. My old instructor Antilles pulled off a damn near impossible feat with the Second Death Star. I mean, half the ships that went into the reactor trench got destroyed because of how tight the damn tunnel was."

"Maybe, but as I understand it, it was largely a straight path with no sudden 90 degree turns appearing out of nowhere."

"Okay, fine. Let's say you're right. I lived next to the Temple on Yavin for nearly a decade. How come they never picked me up?"

"I don't know. You should ask Rey."

"Pff, yeah sure. Ask her."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Take a good hard look at me, Finn. Do I look like Jedi material to you?"

"I've only met one and I never guessed she was."

"Finn, Jedi are supposed to be heroes. Y'know, righteous and morally pure and all that stuff? I'm none of that. I'm just a happy-go-lucky fighter jockey who can't hold down a relationship for even a couple of months. I fly by the seat of my pants half the time, get the crap beaten out of me the other, and generally make it through by being a smartass. So, I reiterate. Do I look like a Jedi to you?"

"Yes, you do," Finn replied, his face serious, "you risked your life repeatedly in the service of others. You chose to save an enemy because you believed that despite everything I'd done before, I had the makings of a good man. And let's be honest here, Poe, you didn't have to become a fighter pilot. You have the looks and charm to be literally anything you wanted to be."

"Hold on, you really think that?"

"Poe, half the time I wonder if you were ever Holo-Movie Star or a celebrity. You have the mannerisms."

"Well, thanks. But what's your point?"

"Like I said, you could've chosen an easy life. You didn't. You chose one of danger and service. As far as I understand, those are the making of a Jedi."

Poe's face became unreadable in that moment. It ran from surprise, guilt, flattery, and even some kind of self directed denigration. It was a jumbled mess, and Finn soon gave up trying to solve it.

"Or… y'know, I'd probably end up just being another one of these Rangers. I mean, their boss is a little Force Sensitive, or so I've heard."

"Why are you dancing around this, Poe? What? Do you think you don't deserve to be one? Is that why you keep putting yourself down?"

Poe's flashed with a sudden but short-lived anger. It was quickly replaced by that same denigration he'd noted earlier. Finn had guessed right and that was confirmed when Poe sighed and shook his head with scoff.

"Yeah, I don't," and he got up and started walking down the hallway. Finn watched him go, wondering if he should chase after him and… and what? Tell him he was wrong? Finn shook his head at that. He had no right telling Poe what to think or feel when he couldn't even figure that one out for himself.

He got up and started walking around for a bit, bumbling through the various droids coming and going his way. None of them took notice of him. He sighed. He needed someone to talk to. Someone that he could vent to, because the indecision of it all was tearing away at him.

Before, he'd been preoccupied enough that he hadn't any time to think about it, and back then his thoughts had been clear. Now they weren't. He didn't want to die, but he didn't know how to live. Before, his life had been regimented and full of decided purpose. Now he had nothing.

" _A mind without purpose always wanders into dark places,"_ Zeros had quote once, and he felt it. Rey and Poe had promised him a life, but deep down he didn't want it that way. Out of everything, the First Order taught him that nothing should be given. Everything had to be earned, else one would lack respect for it and become complacent.

"So, what is my purpose, then?"

Ironically, Finn found himself exactly where he'd been not twenty minutes early. He walked amongst the caged monsters, their heads all turning in his direction and watching him with intent until he found the beast waiting for him.

Finn's harsh eyes narrowed as he looked down at the leering Terentatek, meeting its gaze without flinching. Already, he could feel the beast aura emanating towards him, its ice cold grip slowly taking route in his psyche. He held it at bay for a few moments, allowing him something of a revelation.

When the thing had attacked Rey, it had also done the same to a lesser extent to him and Poe but not Han Solo and Chewbacca. Finn accepted it for what it was. The many times he should have died but didn't, and why he was here now instead of not?

He was surprised he hadn't come to the conclusion sooner.

"Sooner, huh?"

Finn didn't even bother turning around. "Are you real or are you just part of the beast's spell?"

"Does it matter?" Slip came up to him, the piece of shrapnel still stuck in his chest, "I'm here regardless, Eighty-Seven."

"Finn," he corrected, "I'm not Eighty-Seven anymore."

"Oh, that's right," Slip grinned, "that pretty boy pilot gave you that name. Does that make you his pet?"

"What do you want?"

"Nothing much really. Just curious why you're still here."

"Still here?"

"Why you're still breathing. I mean, we're dead… and you're not. Kind of curious, don't you think?"

"You're not Slip and this isn't real. Goodbye."

When he turned to leave, he was greeted by an awful sight. There standing before him was Zeros with a hole in his throat, waving at him. To his side were a pair of legs walking, barely anything left of the torso.

Slip saw them and waved. "Oh hey Zeros, Nines. How's it feel not being able to speak?"

Zeroes shrugged his shoulders.

"And you Nines? How's it feel to lose so much weight?"

Nines clicked his feet together.

"Oh that's good. Just explaining to our brother here the curiosity of all this."

"Stop this," Finn growled, "why are you doing this?"

"Because we're dead, Eighty-Seven," Slip snapped, before he cheerfully asked, "or do you prefer Finn? Maybe we should call you dog and whistle and tell you you're a good pup."

"Get to the point."

"Okay. Kill yourself, Eighty-Seven. Throw yourself right into that pit and give jolly's a good chomping. It is the right thing to do."

"Right for who exactly?" Finn asked, "Right for you, who've been dead for over a week now, or right for that thing in the pit? I saw what it did to Rey."

"And? Everybody wins. We get put to rest, your guilt gets put away, and jolley's gets a good chomping. So, what are you waiting for?"

"No."

"That figures, you couldn't even kill that pilot back at the village. I mean you had the guy at gunpoint and-"

"Shut up. This time, you're going to listen," he then pointed down at the grinning beast below, "you too."

"And that is?" Slip asked expectantly, gesturing with his hand.

"You're not Slip, you're not Nines, and you're not Zeros. And you know how I know this? Because we're brothers, you and I, and brothers never ask that of each other."

"You killed us."

"Sure, I killed you. Somehow I controlled Zeros getting shot, Nines getting blown to pieces and that you got hit by the shrapnel. Somehow, I did all this."

"You walked us in there."

"You followed. We fought, and you died. That was no fault of mine."

"But you lived, instead of us."

"Yes, I did. And you want to know why?"

"Oh, please tell us."

Finn suddenly leapt forward, grabbed Slip by his pauldrons and flung him against the railing with a loud _crunch_.

"What are you-"

"Because the real Slip told me not to," Finn snarled, pushing the talking corpse further over the edge, "because I put a blaster to my chin, and my brothers stopped me. That's how I know you are not real, corpseman. You are just figment, a trick played by my guilty conscience. And I'm tired of being haunted by ghosts that aren't there."

"You'll never be rid of us!" Slip exclaimed with feral eyes.

Finn answered him with an arctic smile. "Watch me."

He sent the corpse over the edge. It screamed all the way to the bottom but it never hit. Finn looked over and there was nothing there save for the hungry beasts below. Finn turned around and drew his blaster, glaring at the remaining figments.

"And you? Do I need to kill you both, too?"

The figment of Zeros looked down at the legs of Nines, and shook his head. They slipped away into the shadows and when he felt their presence gone, he sighed with relief. He then heard a gurgle below, and looked down to see the Terentatek frowning.

Finn scoffed as he walked away. "Thanks for the peace of mind."

Still, he knew the truth now. The truth about himself and the purpose that had been lain before him. Though the uncertainty was still there, he faced it with a determination he had not felt since before the attack on the village. There was clarity in it, and he smiled.

When she was ready, he would ask Rey to help him on that path. And, if this Force willed it, he would find a way for Poe to walk that path with him.

Then he felt it. A disturbance, a crawling cold on the back of his neck. Something was coming. Something… an enemy. He took off running for all he was worth, and ran right into Poe who was coming his way.

"Whoa man. What are you-"

"There's something coming," Finn said in a hurry, "we need to jump, now."

The alarms started ringing, painting the place in a crimson light over and over again. Poe chuckled sardonically and shook his head.

"Y'know, I think I said something about things getting fracked up in the first five minutes. By comparison, this is an improvement."

"Hilarious. We need to get to the Bridge."

"Right behind you."


	23. Chapter 18 - The Crimson Corsairs

**Chapter 18 - The Crimson Corsairs**

* * *

 _ **Providence**_ **-Class Dreadnought** _ **Scarlet Night**_

 **Edge of New Republic Space**

* * *

Captain Jak Sydow, the Crimson Corsair, stared at his prize with a grin hidden behind his mask. "Han, m'boy. You should've run when you had the chance."

"Cap'n," his XO caught his attention, "helmsman's complete the scan. _The Raptor's_ aboard in cargo."

"Good," he smiled behind his mask, "very good. Inform the helmsman that he's earned that extra ration of Grog, Miss Reed."

The Devaronian smiled, her red hued skin shining in the cheeks with a hint of humor, "Aye, Cap'n. Heh, to think we're gonna wait for 'em to come to us, they signal right where they were. So, what are we gonna do? Have the _Baleful Eye_ hook 'em in?"

"No, not quite," the Captain chuckled, "I'm actually going to go over there myself."

Her face darkened a little, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No. But I owe it to an old friend, and I look forward to seeing the look on his face."

"Ha! That'll be a sight to see. I'll get the borders ready by the time you get done there."

"Good. Oh, and have 'em pack the Ysalamiri. There's a chance we'll have to deal with a brown robe."

"I dunno, Cap'n, been a while since we've seen one, or anybody for a matter. Any chance the whiteheads are just pullin' us to put more umph into it?"

"I doubt it, Bonny. They don't have the sense of humor for that. No, if they say Jedi, they mean it, and this is Han Solo. He's never anywhere without one."

"Fair. Anything else, Cap'n?"

"Tell the boys to sing," he smirked under the mask, "an' have it broadcasted. I want the best vocals by the time I get over there."

* * *

The oddest thing suddenly happened as Poe and Finn rounded a corner leading up to the bridge, bypassing all of the B1's coming their way. The ship's intercoms went loud with piercing static before they were replaced with loud, synchronized drums and stringed instruments.

"What the hell?" Poe shook his head, "I never took Han for a musical man."

"Oh no," Finn paled slightly, "that's not Solo's doing."

"What? What are you talking-"

Suddenly, a harsh singing voice back by a chorus of other harsh singers blasted from the intercom.

 _Hello, laddies!_

 _Hear that howlin' in deep?_

 _The Crimson Night has come!_

 _Ave Dominox! We've come for you!_

 _Ave Dominox! We're comin' for you!_

 _Crimson Night!_

 _We've for your treasure_

 _We've come for your gold_

 _Come for your women_

 _Come for your wives_

 _Hide them away_

' _Cause here we come!_

 _Crimson Night!_

 _Ave Dominox! We're comin' for you!_

 _Ave Dominox! We've come for you!_

 _Baying in the deep_

 _Howling in the night_

 _Soring in the blood_

 _Shining in the gold_

 _Hoist the Colors, lads!_

 _The Crimson Night has come!_

And the song repeated again and again, growing louder and more bombastic.

"I take it you know these guys?" Poe asked.

"Not personally, but I do know who they are. Crimson Corsairs."

"Wait, Captain Sydow's guys? I thought they retired."

"They didn't. They came to work for us."

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Poe groaned as he ran his hand through his hair and squeezed his head, "we just escaped Jakku for crying out!"

The intercom buzzed again, the music cutting out as Rey's voice came over the line, " _Guys, get up to the bridge pronto!"_

They double timed it, getting up there in a few minutes. There, they found everybody else waiting for them, including a still paled Rey in a corner seat.

"You okay?" Poe asked her and she nodded glumly.

"I will be, if we make it out of this."

"We'll make it out," Poe told her with a cocky grin to boot, "c'mon, we just got out of worse."

"I'm not sure this time."

"Solo, what the hell did they do to the intercom?" Finn asked, "Did they hack our systems?"

"Tried to. Eravana's no Falcon, but I rigged her to be tough. All they got was their little song and dance."

" _Not bad singing, though,"_ Chewbacca chuckled as BB-8 translated, " _a little dry, but catchy. I still find it hilarious Sydow has his own little battle chorus."_

"The man always had strange tastes," Han shook his head, "and we're not going anywhere."

Ahead, the fleet of crimson painted warships marked with black skull and crossbone iconography closed in. They spotted the Interdictor Cruiser, and they could feel its gravitational pull on them.

"No doubt Sydow's going to want to make this personal," Han snorted, "that man can really hold a grudge."

" _We did blow up his ship."_ Chewbacca countered.

"Chewie, that was over thirty years ago! And he survived, didn't he?"

" _You shot him in the middle of space and left him to die. I think he has every right to be mad at you."_

"He threatened the Princess."

" _You threatened her all the time back then!"_

"Damnit Chewie, stop being difficult," Han turned to Rey, "we need to get down to the Raptor. How bad is the hyperdrive?"

"Coolants fried, along with a half dozen other systems I didn't have time to identify. We're lucky the thing didn't explode."

"Not lucky. I built it to last. C'mon, let's get down there and see if we can get it fixed up enough."

"Um, Solo?" Finn asked, "Not to be stating the obvious here, but that Interdictor will grab us the moment we try to book it."

"Not necessarily," Poe countered, "if that ship's pull is only focused on this ship, it's possible we could punch through it if we hit the right velocity."

"And if it isn't in either case?"

"Then we'll be pulled right back in."

"Well… I suppose it's better than just standing here."

"My thoughts exactly," Han drew his sidearm, putting aside the smuggler and settling on the general, "blasters out, eyes open. I've sent most of the B1's to the primary hangar bay, but they're not going to last long. We move fast and we don't stop for nothing. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Poe nodded as he drew his own sidearm, Finn pulling his F-11 from underneath his poncho Rey her lightsaber, Chewie his bowcaster and BB-8 his flame-projector, who casually saluted with it.

"Droids," Han snorted, "alright, let's move."

* * *

The refitted LAAT gunship squadron touched down in the hangar without incident, but it was quite clear that they were about to have company.

"Cap'n, I've got the program ready to rock," the slicer grinned wolfishly, "I can initiate a reboot on 'em."

"Good. No need to waste our good friend's gifts," Sydow nodded, "blasters out, boys. Let's do some talking."

"Um, Cap'n? Won't the chrome-domes start shootin' at us?" one of the armsmen asked.

"You forget, Mister Bonnett, that B1's were and still are security droids. Their first action will be to apprehend us, not blast us. So, we'll play that patient game a while."

He was the first with boots on the deck and the first with a blaster in his face.

" _Halt!"_ commanded the droid, " _Drop your weapons or we will use lethal force!"_

The armsmen rose to fighting stances but kept their guns low. Sydow raised his hands and shook his head at the droid.

"So direct, my mechanical friend. We didn't come to fight. Just to chat with an old mate."

" _Negative. Captain Solo says you are here to engage in hostilities. You will surrender."_

"No no, that won't do at all."

" _Elaborate."_

Sydow looked over at the slicer, who gave him a _just a few more seconds_ signal.

"Well, it's quite simple, really," Sydow chuckled, "how about you work for me instead?"

" _Negative, that is noooooot pskrks k meed-bee-bop!"_ and then the droid flopped over, deactivated, followed by his fellows. However, they didn't get back up, even after a minute of waiting.

"Mister Jaster," Sydow asked, "where are my new droids? You promised me them."

"Got a problem, Cap'n. Some kind of shutdown thing in place. Might take me awhile."

"Clever, Han!" he chuckled, "But not clever enough, unfortunately. And this is why I do not rely on anything with oil in its veins. No offense, Mister Carson."

"None taken, Cap'n. I'm a cyba, not a droid."

"Fair enough, Mister Carson," Sydow nodded once and drew his Naboo made S-5 Heavy Blaster Pistol with a slap of the leather holster, "let's go have a chat, shall we?"

* * *

The posse moved from corridor to corridor, with Rey ahead at point. She kept her senses about her, stretching out to detect any intrusion ahead. However, it wasn't just the corsairs she kept her senses out for. She shuddered at the memory of the Terentatek, it's cold mental tandrials reaching into her psyche and… and making her remember.

She pushed the thought aside. She would deal with that once they got off the ship and to safety. They rounded the corner when suddenly the B1's droids started falling over around them.

"Uh oh," Han said to Chewie, "that's not good."

" _See?"_ Chewbacca growled, " _This is why you don't trust droids! They fall over at the worst possible moment!"_

 _Hey, that's why you don't trust Wookies!_ BB-8 scoffed, _They tend to catch fire at the worst possible moments!_

" _Don't make me swat you, beachball!"_

 _Try and I'll cook your hide, walking carpet!_

"Knock it off, you two!" Han growled, "Or I'll throw you both in the brig and let you work out your issues there!"

Rey suddenly held up a hand, "Up ahead. We got company."

Everybody immediately ducked to the sides of the tunnel, drawing their weapons.

"What are we looking at?" Poe asked.

"It's hard to get a read. It's almost like they're invisible."

"Invisible?" Han raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

"Like the Force is having trouble going through them. It's more keen to go around them, but if I had to guess, maybe ten or more. Can't be more than twenty."

" _Ah blast!"_ Chewbacca shook his head, " _They must have Yssalimiri."_

"Ah hell," Rey groaned, "not those furry lizards again!"

"Yssalimir?" Finn asked, and Poe provided an answer.

"They're basically anti-Force lizards. They put up a bubble that prevents the Force from going through it."

"So, you can't push them?"

"Basically."

"The Chimera loved them." Han grumbled, "whole lot of them went missing when the regime went under."

"So what are we going to do?" Rey asked.

"If it weren't for the Ysalamiri, I'd say we could take 'em. But this is a tight tunnel and they got numbers. Chewie?"

" _We could have them go under the deck and crawl to the Hangar bay."_

"Hold on, 'them'?" Rey asked, "You're coming with us."

They heard a door open ahead and Chewbacca pull out one of the deck grates, " _No time, get in."_

"But what are you going to do?"

"What I always do," Han smirked, "talk our way out of it."

Chewie growled something they didn't catch and Han jutted an accusing finger at him, "Yes I do! Everytime! Now, you all get. We'll catch up."

She was about to protest but she bit it back with a sigh, "Don't do anything stupid," and she went under the floor.

"This is a bad idea," Finn grumbled as they began crawling through the claustrophobic underdeck, with only a few inches clearance for them on either side, not including the constant jutting pipes and power cables.

"Oh yeah, crawling around like being packed in a sardine can," Poe chuckled quietly, "I dunno, I can think of a few things being worse."

"Oh hush, you two," Rey chided them, "you never had to crawl around in a Destroyer's aircon network. Those come with rats!"

 _Hmm, rats,_ BB-8 chuckled darkly, _I can handle rats. Rats you can barbeque. Cutthroats with blasters above us, though? Dunno about that._

"Couldn't have said it better, BB-8," Poe nodded, "seems the galaxy is determined to throw even the kitchen sink at us."

"Oy, Chappa? Did ya hear somethin'?" they heard someone with an undercity accent above them and they all froze, "I swear I heard someone chatterin' something fierce!"

"That was probably you, ya stick-fiend!" someone just as gruff replied, "I keep tellin' ya ta lay off them sticks, but noo! Ya have ta stuff yer nose with 'em!"

"Oi, Knock it off, you two!" a non-com bellowed, "And get this door open 'fore the Cap'n gets here."

 _We can take 'em,_ Poe mouthed to Rey and Finn, _you cut a hole, and we can spring on these guys._

 _Not a good idea,_ Finn mouthed back, putting his hand up to the deck plating, _feel this._

They did, feeling the incoming vibrations of a lot of footfalls coming their way.

 _Rey?_

 _I don't know,_ she shook her head, _the closer they get, the more prominent the Ysalamiri is. I can't even pick up the individual readings anymore._

 _Spast. Okay, we need to deal with these guys somehow. A Providence Class can hold thousands of Armsmen, and if they got enough boarding craft-_

 _I get the idea,_ Rey replied, _but what are we going to do? They outnumber us, outgun us, and they've practically neutered my abilities._

 _The doors,_ Finn suddenly said, _we can try and trap them between the two or even three blastdoors._

 _Hmm, if I can find the right fuses, maybe I-_

They then froze as the rest of the pirates came down the hall, their footfalls not a foot above them as the door slid open.

* * *

" _Han Solo. Fancy meeting you here, ol'boy."_

Though Han had been expecting it, the voice still caught him by surprise. The distinctness of it, with its drawl of over-pronounced vowels and an overbearing air of sophistication, was far too unique for it to be anybody else.

"Hello Jak," Han replied asturned with his hand touching leather, "what the hell are you wearing?"

" _Took it off a dead man, of course,"_ Sydow shrugged his heavy shoulders, his voice coming out gravelly and distorted, " _Have to look the part, after all."_

The man had changed his appearance since the last time he'd seen him over three decades ago. Along with his disreputable crew, Sydow was wearing a scarlet armor-weaved doublet and breeches, with the latter being tucked into black leather cavalier boots. His shoulders were adorned with a long dark cloak, pistols poking out of every corner and a few tucked into a golden sash around his middle.

Most distinct of all however, was the gleaming metal red helm, almost eldric looking with its long horns and drooping eye slits that ran up the top of the helm. It impressed the imposingness of his bear like physique, even if the man was pushing past Han's own age.

"You always had strange tastes, Jak."

Sydow tilted his head rather strangely, his hand patting the head of lizard-like Ysalamiri wrapped around his shoulder. Its beady black eyes stared ahead at Han, and when it forked its tongue at him, Sydow barked out a laugh.

" _Better than be a bore. Oh, and a new jacket, eh? What was wrong with your vest?"_

"Got burned over Mimbam fighting the Sssi-Rook. And it's actually an old jacket."

" _Ah. I'm a little insulted, Han. I gave you that vest."_

"Really? That's what you're insulted about?" Han scoffed, folding his arms over business style.

" _Nothing more insulting than a man who doesn't take care of his appearance. Then again, you never were a good listener. More interested in chasing tail and fame than actually making money."_

"Says the man with a three billion bounty."

" _Oh, I did that on purpose. That Hapian ice queen more than earned that scandal. Besides, I never got carbinited by the Slugs."_

"You going to remind me I shouldn't have worked for them?"

" _Tssk tssk, too late for that, lad. Besides, I believe it turned out quite well for you. Seat in the new government, cozy with a Princess. Nice work on that one. You were utterly lousy at smuggling, but you always were good with lasses."_

"What do you mean lousy?" Han exclaimed, "I was the best in my day!"

" _No, you were the biggest target back in your day. A good smuggler is one you're never heard of, not one that's known by name, ship and look. Thanks to that, I got locked up in Kessel."_

"It was you or me and Lando, and you didn't exactly make it easy for me."

" _You stupid boy. You still haven't learned that for every willin' lass, there's one to stick you. Qi'ra was a tramp through and through, and she got what she deserved."_

"I shouldn't have had to shoot her," Han growled, "and you shouldn't have threatened Leia."

" _That's fair, for the latter point. Only time when your taste actually blossomed. Granted, I haven't forgiven you for leaving me in the vacuum, but that's in the past."_

"In the past, huh. Then what is this?"

" _Just business, Han,"_ he shrugged as he patted the Ysalamir's head again, " _just you found yourself on the wrong end of it, as usual."_

"Funny. Just like you working for the First Order."

" _No different than you working for the Rebels."_

"Last I checked, the Rebellion won and toppled the Empire."

" _Yeah, they did. And then your wife dried up all the work in Mid and Core. And then they let Zahn get away with his shenanigans in the Outer Rim. Didn't your New Republic say they don't kindly to slavers?"_

"It's not that simple, and you know this."

" _Yes it is. I offered my company to Master Hett and Deba Jarrus, and the New Republic put a warrant on me. And for what, stealing Zhan's latest ship line? Your wife's government has lost its spine, and I'm a mercenary. I go where I am paid and welcomed."_

"You're a sellout, Jak. You hated the Empire. Now you're fighting for their grandkids."

" _At least the First Order don't tolerate slavers in their space, nor do they trade in them. Can't say the same for_ _ **your**_ _government."_

"We don't trade in slaves," Han bared his teeth.

" _Not under your wife's rule, maybe. Can't say the same for her successors. After all, a Senator is only worth the latest bribery."_

"And the First Order are the ones handing those out, Jak."

" _Perhaps. But that's neither here nor there. Now, to business, you and I,"_ his hand dropped from the Ysalamir to under his cloak, " _I'm looking for a Jedi, a Pilot, a Traitor and a BB unit. Where are they?"_

"I have no idea," Han shrugged his shoulders, "first time I've heard of it."

" _Don't play daft, m'boy. We found your kid's ugly in the hangar. We know they're here."_

"It's a big ship."

" _Not big enough, Han. Make it easy for me for once. You've played your hand, and I brought an idiot's array for your Jedi."_ The Ysalamir gave a low hiss at this

"You may hold an idiot's array, but I have one, too." Han pulled out a remote and pressed the transmitter. Far below them they heard a series of high pitched howls. Soon after, Sydow fidgeted with his hand going up to his comm.

" _Oh…"_ Sydow's voice turned icy, " _I'm going to kick your arse for that, boy!"_

And before Chewbacca could raise his bowcaster or Han could clear leather, Sydow had his S-5 drawn and an emerald bolt sent downrange. Before it could make contact, the blastdoor came up and the bolt pelted it with a mean blast. Han let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and he wondered if he had just made a bad situation worse.


	24. Chapter 19- The Terentatek

**Chapter 19 - The Terentatek**

* * *

 _ **The Eravana**_

 **Edge of New Republic Space**

* * *

"Is he frickin' crazy?" Poe cursed as he, BB-8, Rey and Finn popped their head out from under the grating, checking both ways before they climbed out, "Did he just release all the damn monsters in the hold while we're still on the same damn boat!?"

"Evidently, he did," Finn nodded as he pulled his blaster, taking point down the hallway, "which should give us enough time to get past the Corsairs in the confusion and get to the _Raptor_."

"Yeah, that's if we don't run into something mean and nasty first along the way. Rey?" he stopped to look at her, noticing she was looking a bit pale, "Are you okay?"

"He's free," she said softly. At first, Poe was about to ask who but he quickly realized that was a stupid question.

"Where is it?" he asked instead.

"I dunno. The ysalamiri are playing havoc with the Force. It's like trying to see in the dark. But he's there, and if I can sense him, then he can sense me."

"Would the yssalmir affect him the same way as they do you?" Finn asked.

"His Force based senses, sure, but he doesn't need those. He can literally smell my blood."

 _Couldn't we just throw him out an airlock or something?_ BB-8 asked, _Hell, shoot him right at the Corsair ship while we're at it!_

"Good luck trying, buddy," Poe grumbled as he drew his weapon, his senses becoming alert, "regardless, we need to get the hell off this boat. Rey, any chance Han might've made some major changes to the freighters layout?"

"I don't see why he would."

"Good. BB-8, see if you can pull up the schematics on _Baleen-_ class heavy freighters. We need to know where the hangar bays are."

 _Gotcha. That might take me a few minutes though._

"In the meantime, we can follow this junction," Finn pointed out, "this is the general direction we were going before we ran into the Pirates."

"Pirate is such a strong word," an all too familiar voice called out from an adjacent junction, "If you are so inclined for the technicality, we're privateers."

From around the corner, emerged the Crimson Corsair.

"Y'know, Pirates and Privateers are the same thing," Poe deadpanned, "It's just one gets paid by someone else."

"Aye, that is fair, I suppose," Captain Sydow chuckled as he crossed his arms, "but I'm not here to argue semantics with you, lad. Speaking of lads," he then getsured his fingers at them, "take them."

Suddenly, there were surrounded by a dozen blaster armed Corsairs.

"Well, this is just marvelous," Finn cursed as the four of them went back to back, weapons raised, with Rey facing Sydow, her saberpike pointed at him.

Sydw shrugged his shoulders at the lot of them. "For me and the lads, it is actually. We got you, we got a ship full of very exquisite monsters," he then pointed to one of the Corsairs, "Mister Chester, remind me to look up ask Miss Bonny for prices on said monsters later. I want to get them sold before "

"I could just call her up now, boss, and ask her."

Sydow considered it for a moment, and shrugged his shoulders, "Aye, go and do that, Mister Chester," he then turned back to his prize, "where was I?"

"Um… you got us in a bind and a ship full of monsters?" Poe replied.

"Ah, yes, and now we have Han's droids under our control. Of course, we've been sidetracked gettin' here, but I'd say this day's been quite profitable."

"Hold on, how'd you get out of that junction?" Rey exclaimed, "I locked you in there not five minutes ago!"

"You do realize I have a slicer, correct?" he replied bemused, "Nice trick, by the way. Top notch. But perhaps you should have thought about closing **all** the other doors? Not one to think ahead, are you, lass? And it wasn't much to figure out where you were going when we saw you weren't with Han. Now, anymore questions before the lads and I collect our pay?"

"Yeah," Poe shot back, "how much to pay you to leave us alone?"

"More than what you've got, I'm afraid. Flattered though."

Rey suddenly shot her hand forward, a telekinetic blast ripping apart conduits and the bulkheads until it finally hit the blast door ahead and left a crumpling dent in it.

Captain Sydow, however, was still standing. As if on cue, the lizard-like Ysalamiri crawled up from his back to rest on his shoulder again, Sydow petting its scaley head softly. The lizard stuck its hissing tongue out at Rey and Sydow chuckled at this, "My thoughts exactly."

He quick-drew his blaster pistol, firing from the hip at the Jedi. Instinctively, Rey raised her saber, deflecting the emerald bolt upward and blasting an air duct directly above the captain's head. Coolant hissed out but Sydow had already taken a step to the side.

He pointed up at the venting coolant, asking bemusingly, "Hmm, was that for me? Bad luck, Jedi. Alright lads, take 'em."

A roar suddenly reverberated from somewhere down the hall, echoing with frightening cacophony.

"What the hell was that?" one of the Corsairs asked.

"Mister Chester, call up the boys in the cargo bay," Sydow ordered, "they were supposed to secure the beasts in the hold."

"I'm just gettin' static from their channel, boss."

Rey began to tremble in fear, her breath coming out in a terrified, stuttering whisper,"It's him."

"Captain," Finn said evenly, pointing down the hall, "the thing that is coming for us now is far more dangerous than you or us. We need to move, now."

As if to emphasize his point, there was a loud crash like a wall getting bulldozed and the low but steady rumble of something big and heavy coming their way. Sydow shook his helmed-head and scoffed.

"Alright, new plan. Kill whatever is coming this way, and then collect the bounty on these four."

"Did you not hear a word he said!?" Poe exclaimed, when suddenly there was a loud explosion as something mashed through the outer wall. The force of the impact put everyone on the floor, a silhouetted shadow standing ahead in the cloud of coolant. It's arms and hands spread wide as a low vibrating hiss went through them all, leaving behind a lingering feeling of dread cold to the bone.

"Well hello, Spooky. Your head will go nicely in my trophy collection," Sydow turned his head to his armsmen, "aim low."

As if in response, the carapaced-rancor charged headfirst like a bull reek, its carapace shielding the rest of the body as the Corsairs opened fire.

"RUN!" Poe screamed as they sprinted with all their might. The Corsairs didn't bother to stop them. They had something much worse to deal with as the air was filled with curses, crashes and screams. Not long after, they felt the beast's footfalls coming right after them.

Promptly, they began closing and sealing blast doors as they went, but they were being plowed down one after the other. Once they got to the next junction area, Poe stopped for a moment and stared up at the still unclosed blast door. It was bigger than the others and it dropped horizontally instead of vertically.

A grin crossed his face. "Hey guys, I've got an idea! But I'm gonna need bait!"

"Bait?" Finn asked, "What for?" Then he saw the blastdoor, "Ah, I see what you have in mind. Well-"

"I'll do it," Rey sighed as she marched towards the entrance way, "he wants me, afterall."

"Not after what he was able to do to you last time," Finn countered.

There was a sudden crash of metal as the final blastdoor between them and five tons of monster was sent flying. Slowly, with a deliberate slowness as the air turned frigid cold, the burned and manic-grinning Terentatek came into view.

It stopped for a moment, flicking its tongue out and licking its chops as its beady eyes glared down at them before speaking in a raspy, barely understandable gurgle of a voice, " _Jeh-Dai…"_

Rey's eyes went wide, her body trembling as her breathing became frantic. Slowly, it started to advance on them, its eyes shifting back and forth between its prey before they finally settled on Finn. It stopped, glaring at him with something of a constipated expression.

An arctic smile crossed Finn's face. "Not this time, monster," and he pulled Rey away. The Terentatek roared in rage and barrelled towards them, getting only ten feet in before Poe dropped the door on it like a guillotine.

There was a crash, a loud squeal, and then nothing. Poe let out a hoot. "Ha! Works once on a Rancor, works twice on a-Oh you gotta be kidding me!"

Poe had expected to see the Terentatek dead under the weight of the door. Instead, it was forced to its knees and holding the door up like a bodybuilder performing a deadlift. With the grinding of metal, it slowly began to push the several ton weight upward as it laughed at them.

Suddenly, they heard a Wookie roar behind them followed by the report of a bowcaster. The tungsten bolt sheathed in crimson plasma struck the Terentatek in the chest like a thunderbolt, barrelling it over and causing the blastdoor to slam into the ground with a loud _crunch._

"And stay out!" Han bellowed as he and Chewie came in, "y'all alright?"

"Yeah, more or less," Poe replied before he was cut off as the door suddenly dented inward. This was followed by another and another, the metal struggling to hold back the weight.

"Everybody, climb on!" Han shouted as he mounted the gravcar and took off at full speed. They got exactly thirty seconds ahead when Han suddenly slammed on the brakes, turning around sideways.

Ahead of them was the main cargo junction tunnel leading down to the hangar bays, and standing between them was a confusing melee of monster, Corsair and battle droids. With a scowl that could kill, Han slammed the pedal to the metal and the gravcar rocketed forth into the crowd.

"Hang on!" he shouted just as the car smashed into the melee, sending combatants flying like bowling pins. However, their luck didn't last as they started taking on hitchhikers, the extra weight causing the car to bow over and scrap the ground as it moved.

"Get 'em off!" Han roared as he struggled to keep the car stable. Poe and Finn took turns punching, kicking and throwing Corsairs off. Chewbacca grabbed a B1 by its head and began using it as a club. Rey decapitated a Nexu that tried to swing at Han, throwing it's body with the Force at a pack chasing them. BB-8 meanwhile held the rearguard, shocking a Sand Panther off the bumper before turning around and torching a Corsair who'd grabbed Poe from behind.

Han rounded the corner, spotting the final passageway to the hangar bays when suddenly a wampa blindsided them, causing the car to roll onto its side and crash into a forklift. The repulsor lifts turned in that moment, catapulting the wampa away as the car threw the occupants in all directions.

"Ah you gotta be kiddin' me," Poe groaned as he pushed himself off the floor, "Is the damn galaxy determined to keep us on this ship?"

A blaster bolt whizzed past his head and Finn promptly grabbed him the scruff of his shirt, pulling under the cover of the car. "Does that answer your question?"

Finn then began return firing, but the Corsairs quickly suppressed them. Rey deflected the incoming fire, rolling over to them as she pulled the forklift over to cover their rear.

"They've got the front entrance covered! Any better back here?"

"Not even slightly," Finn grumbled, "where's Solo and the Wookie?"

That answer came when Chewbacca was thrown into the crashed car. They all turned to see Han ducking and dodging the enraged Wampa's frenzied attacks, blasting it at every opportunity.

"You ugly excuse for a furball!" Han roared, "You cost me a ticket off this boat! I'm gonna take it out of your hide!"

The Wampa snarled and charged. Han threw himself backwards, wincing as he hit the ground. Still, the Wampa ran right past him and Han put several well aimed shots into his side and legs before the Corsairs turned it into a smoking mound of burning flesh. Han immediately rolled to cover as they turned their attention to him, the car buckling under the barrage.

"We need to get the hell out of here!" Poe shouted, "Rey, can you try pulling their blasters away?"

"No, they still have their ysalamiri! Wait," she pointed to the far walls, "those are service tunnels. If we could get close enough, I could cut our way in and we could work our way towards the hangar!"

"Yeah, but it's the same problem as before!" Poe pointed out, "We'd get shot down the moment we try!"

"Then we're going to have to wait for **him** to arrive," Finn replied gravely.

"Him!?" Rey exclaimed, "You wanna wait for him to catch up!?"

"Yes. With any luck, he'll be coming down that hallway and that'll give us the time to escape."

Han shook his head at him, "Kid, you're crazier than Luke when he wanted to use the Ewoks on the Empire."

"Yes, but it worked, didn't it?"

"Wait…" Rey held up her hand, "the firing. It's stopped."

"Oh Han Solo!" the mocking voice of Captain Sydow rang down the corridor, "Did you miss me?"

"Not really!" Han shot back, "Why aren't you dead?"

"Because I'm clever, that's why! And I paid top credit for this armor."

"Why can't you be a good boy and die?"

"You first," Sydow chuckled, "which may come soon, depending on your choice. I have you pinned on both sides of this corridor and I have your droids under my command. Face it, ol' boy, you've lost."

"Games not over 'till I'm not breathin', Jak," Han retorted, "Cathorn taught us that."

"Ah yes, the great Cale Cathorn with his smuggler proverbs. And what good did they do him on the Kessel Run?"

"He died a hero. Something you will never understand."

"He died a fool, Han. Blow up one superweapon, and the Empire just made another five years later. It really wasn't worth his life."

Han's reply was to shoot him in the chest, sending Sydow flopping onto the ground like a wet fish before he pushed himself back to his feet.

"Ah, there he is," Sydow coughed as smoke billowed from his armor, "the lad who'll talk a grand game but shoot you under the table. Thank you for proving a point. Lads! Light 'em up!"

The car was pelted under yet another overwhelming barrage of blaster fire when there was a sudden crash and the firing stopped. An all too familiar hiss passed through them all as Sydow shouted, "You again! What are you, the pitcher from the drink commercials!?"

The beast roared and the pirates opened fire. Han pushed Poe, Rey and Finn out towards the wall, "You go that way, we'll catch up!"

"Oh no!" Rey shouted, "I already lost one friend to that excuse! I am not losing another, especially not you!"

"Get going!" Han shouted as he fired into the mass ahead, "We'll find our own way out! You and that droid need to get out of here!"

"But-!" a blaster bolt grazed her head and she dropped to the floor.

"Commander Dameron! That's an order!" Han bellowed as he and Chewie ran to draw the Corsairs fire. No sooner than they did than the Terentatek tossed a cargo hauler their way, crashing into the car and forcing Poe and company to leap away to the far wall.

"Yes sir," Poe reluctantly replied as they rolled to cover, "c'mon, we need to cut this door open!"

Rey nodded with a sigh, "Alright, I'll-"

They ran smack into a retreating squad of Corsairs. "Oh fer piss sake!" one of them shouted, "We just tryna run away from the bloody monster, and now we've run into you lot!"

"Um… so are we," Poe replied, "how about you go that way and we go this way?"

"And miss out on the 50k bounty on each of your heads, sobutyl'nik?" another burly Corsair hefting a rotary cannon asked with a vicious smile, "not a chance."

"Oh for-" Poe's words were cut off as the Rotary Cannon opened fire. Rey drew her saber as cobalt bolts slammed into her weapon, damn near knocking her off her feet as she struggled to keep the fire at bay.

"Hevi, fer frack's sake!" one of the corsairs screamed, "We gotta a frickin' monster behind us! We don't have time for this!"

"Listen to your friend and go away!" Poe screamed as he and Finn tried to take out the gunner, but Hevi popped up an energy shield around his firing hands, absorbing their fire.

"No, Aayla is hungry!" Hevi roared back like a maniac

"Aayla?" Rey asked before she saw the rather provocative painting on the side of the Rotary Cannon, "Oh stars, REALLY!?"

"Ya like her, devushka?" Hevi beamed proudly as he continued pouring fire into them, "I got her off an old clone! Maybe I'll put you next to her!"

"BB-8, where are we at with that door!?" Poe shouted.

 _I'm trying, but I don't have the fuel for this! The damn wall is too thick!_

"Droid, do you still have Tekka's Saber?" Finn asked. BB-8 nodded and pulled it out, Finn promptly grabbed it and slammed the cyan blade into the wall up to the emitter, slowly pushing the blade up. Physics however soon reared its head as the metal's melting resistance slowed him down.

Poe immediately ran over and began adding his own strength to the effort, cursing as he did, "Jeez! What the hell is this wall made out of!?"

"Not made out of," Finn grumbled, "more like how many layers!"

They finally reached the top and Finn pulled the blade free, "Okay, on three. One, two, three!" and the two of them tackled directly into the metal wall, causing it to crash over.

Ignoring the jarring pain throbbing in his shoulder, Poe quickly ducked back outside and grabbed Rey by her belt, pulling her in. No sooner than they did, the Terentatek came charging in. Hevi spun and tried to blast the monster, but was promptly thrown into the wall with an audible _thump._

"Back back back!" Poe screamed as it slammed into the wall and threw its hand into the open hole to grab them. Rey and Finn promptly drove their blade into the outreaching appendage, causing it to wrench it back in pain as it began punching the wall in.

"Oh come on!" Poe shouted, "Can't you just take hint already and go away!?"

"Nevermind that!" Rey screamed, "Just run!

No sooner than they cleared the corridor, the Terentatek caved in the wall and reached for them madly as they rounded a corner. A hiss of frustration passed through its clenched teeth, echoing down to its prey as they ran.

"Y'know, I got a feeling we're gonna have to go with BB-8's idea," Poe panted, "cause that thing ain't gonna stop!"

"At least until I'm in his stomach," Rey groaned, "still, how are we going to get him next to an airlock?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Finn grumbled, "if we can even make it to the damn hangar at this rate."


	25. Chapter 20 - Out the Airlock

**Chapter 20 - Out the Airlock**

* * *

 _ **The Eravana**_

 **Edge of New Republic Space**

* * *

Finn, Poe and Rey had been running for several minutes along the ship's many service tunnels before BB-8 finally called far ahead.

"What'd he say?" Finn asked.

"He says he found a backdoor to the hangar," Poe panted, "good thing, too. We've been going around in circles."

"You need to get into shape, flyboy," Finn chuckled.

"Hey, I am in shape! I've just had a terrible week!"

"Oh please," Rey snorted, "you two try scaling a Star Destroyer from the ground level."

They rounded the corner, finding BB-8 plugged into a console and fiddling with the locking mechanism. He gave a grunt of frustration, and Poe translated. "Some kind of lockdown mechanism. He can't override it from here."

"That's just swell," Finn sighed as he examined the blastdoor, "well, Rey and I could try to cut it open."

"Or I can do this. Stand back," Rey gestured as she placed her hand against the door. With several moments of concentration, the loud report of the doors unlocking sounded and she carefully pried the two halves open with the Force. As it opened, they immediately ducked to cover as Corsairs and B1's came to view.

"Oh come on!" Poe cursed, "Didn't we just leave this party?"

Ahead was the Emerald Raptor, and between them was a collection of Varactyls, Maru, a Dragonsnake and a very angry Acklay covered in wounds being corralled into a corner with stun pikes. More droids were coming in through other entrances, quickly securing the rest of the hangar.

"How many of B1's did Han say he had?" Poe asked.

"He didn't," Rey answered, "but there's probably more on the way. So what do you think? Tiptoe around them and get to the ship?"

"I say we make a run for it," Finn offered, "it's either shoot at us and potentially let those things loose, or not. We deal with anything that gets in our way."

"Okay, that sounds good," Poe nodded, "but it'll help if we had somekind of distraction first. Rey, think you could chuck something at 'em?"

"Don't need to," she grinned and pointed at the far wall, "we're about to get our distraction."

On the far side of the hangar, they heard the loud report of blaster fire and a creature bellowing in pain. Suddenly, the entire wall section exploded as a smoking Reek plowed through before sliding to the floor. Behind its burnt carcass, Han Solo and Chewbacca charged through the breach. The wildlife took their chance and all hell broke loose.

"RUN! GO!" Finn bellowed as they took off running, dodging from cover to cover and exchanging fire with the enemy. Ahead, Han and Chewie ran to meet them, Han grinning as they did.

"See, Rey? Told you we would catch up."

The Wookie then growled at them, and Rey chuckled as she deflected a bolt and sent a Corsair flying. "You can call me Little Krayt when we're on the ship and out of here! Han, did your droids fix the ship?"

"Should've!" he called as he dropped a pair of droids, "But I was counting on Sydow hacking the droids! We'll have to finish what they started!"

They all dropped behind a collection of shipping crates, trading shots with a squad of Corsairs who were using the Raptor as cover.

"With the two of us, that won't-" Rey trailed off, and Finn noticed she'd become deathly white. Then he felt **it** , though lesser than what he guessed Rey was feeling.

"Where is he?"

"Right behind us."

No sooner than she said that, they all heard it: a vibrating purr that passed through them like a cold wind. They all turned and on the far side of the hangar, the blastdoors were ripped apart with a shrieking groan. Through the widening crack, appeared the Terentatek.

" _Jeh-dai…"_ it hissed at them as it slowly began to push its way through the opening.

"Run!" Han shouted. The Corsairs paid them no heed, instead turning their fire on the much graver threat. Finn felt a pulsating thump of a drum in his head, and even his vision was starting to go blurry. He cursed, forcing back the mental assault on his mind as behind them roar of battle filled his ears.

Then suddenly, Rey stopped and pulled them all back with a telekinetic pull. No sooner than she did, the great carcass of the reek flew overhead and slammed right onto the Raptor's loading ramp.

"Oh you gotta be frickin' kidding!" Poe shouted as everybody rose to their feet, turning to find the Terentatek coming right at them. Chewbacca was the first to react, firing a bolt right into its chest as he roared a battle cry. The beast howled in pain, stopped in its tracks as everybody else poured on fire.

Its carapace buckled and smoked under the onslaught, but it just kept coming.

"Down!" Poe screamed as they all dived out of the way, the Terentatek slamming into hull of the Raptor and bouncing off, momentarily stunned. Rey quickly took advantage of this, throwing crate after crate at the beast. Then it caught the last one and threw it right back at Rey. She somersaulted to avoid the attack, but another was sent her way; the doors of it spilling open and sending a barrage of boxes at her.

The onslaught struck her everywhere at once, a medical cart knocking her hard in the head as she was buried beneath the weight. Howly with mad triumph, the beast began to prowl towards her before it took a bolt to the head and doubled over. The Terentatek curled into an armored ball as Finn, Poe, Han and Chewie rained fire on it.

Suddenly, it kicked out with its haunches and sent an avalanche of crates their way.

"Look-" was all Han could get out before he and Chewie were buried under the storm. Finn dove to the side, but took a hit to the head. Everything became blurry and disoriented, but he was conscious that now the Terentatek was chasing Poe and his droid.

"You want some of this!?" Poe roared, "Come and get some!"

His challenge was punctuated by the discharge of his blaster pistol and the _foosh_ of the droid's flamethrower. They circled the abomination in a deadly game of tag, rolling and dodging whatever it threw at them. Then it ripped a pipe out of the wall, tibana showering its carapace.

"BB-8, don't!" Poe shouted, but it was already too late. The droid charged at the Terentatek, setting it on fire. The beast didn't even seem to notice and swatted BB-8 away with the pipe, sending the droid ping-ponging into a crate and out of sight.

"BB!" Poe screamed, and the Sith Rancor threw the pipe at him like a boomerang, throwing him across the floor hard. Before it could advance on either him or Rey, Finn ignited his lightsaber.

"Chew on this!" Finn roared as he leapt onto the monster's back, his sapphire blade ignited he plunged deep into its body. It let out a shrieking cry and thrashed about, trying desperately to throw Finn off. Before it could however, he dropped to the floor and lacerated its legs and across the knee.

Enraged, the beast swiped its oversized talons at him. Finn leapt backwards and drew his rifle, shooting as he moved. The Sith Rancor gave chase, tearing up the ground in its fury as the former Stormtrooper stayed one step ahead of it. The Terentatek then grabbed another crate and threw it at him.

Instead of trying to roll away, Finn rolled towards it and ignited his saber. As the crate sailed over, he slid right underneath the beasts legs and began hacking at anything in reach. The beast roared and kicked Finn as he tried to roll away again, sending him flopping across the room.

Before it could attack again, an all too familiar voice rang out, "Oi, Spooky! That's my bounty!"

Finn looked across the way, more Corsairs pouring in with Captain Sydow armed with a launcher leading the fray. He was a tattered mess yet somehow alive; his helmet cracked to reveal the man's manic grin.

"That's right, Spooky, I ain't so easy to kill! Let's find out about you, shall we?"

He shouldered a rocket launcher and fired its munition. The blast sent it hurtling backwards, its carapace a smoking wreck. However, it rose to one knee, hissing with murderous intent.

Sydow just grinned even further. "Hand me another rocket, Mr. Finnigan. I'm going to cook it fine rare."

The Sith Rancor bared its teeth and charged, giving Finn time to get his bearings and back on his feet. He spotted Poe, and quickly ran over.

"Ow!" Poe groaned as Finn and BB-8 got the pipe off him, "I think I might've busted a rib or two."

"Better than your head," Finn chuckled. Behind them, the Corsairs were fighting the Terentatek tooth and nail, even using trolleys and carts to keep it at a distance. The beast however was stubborn monster.

BB-8 chirped nervously and Poe shook his head, "We don't need to kill it. We just need to get it off this ship. We need to get it through the airlock."

"How?" Finn asked.

"How do you kill a monster? You get one of your own."

* * *

Across the room, Rey stirred under a pile of detritus. Pain radiated throughout her entire body like it had gone a full nine rounds, and she was only dully aware of being pulled free by Han.

"You okay, kiddo?" he asked tiredly.

"I've had better," she groaned, feeling a sharp pain in her neck, "I take it things have gone horribly?"

"Yeah, but Dameron's got an idea of how to get that damn thing off the ship. But we're gonna need your help."

"What can I do?"

"Can you mind-dom that Acklay over there?"

A tired smile crossed her face, "Well, it's been a while, but I can certainly try."

* * *

Finally, the Terentatek had found a worthy opponent among the insects. A burly Besalisk, strong for its species, had charged the beast in hand-to-hand when it'd ripped his blasters from him. Assuming a boxers stance, the Besalisk bobbed and weaved under its assault before it retaliated crosses and jabs to the face that drove the beast back.

The Terentatek wiped blood from its lips and smiled. It lunged, throwing a powerful punch that sent the Basilisk flying. Before it could advance, it heard a challengers call and turned to find an Acklay stomping towards it. The Terentatek peered curiously at the green crustacean, feeling something strange about it.

Then it turned its gaze to the right, and saw why.

" _Jeh-dai…"_ the Rancor hissed with a manic smile, before the Acklay attacked. It thrust its legs forward, trying to impale the Terentatek as it shuffled out of the way. Then it grabbed one of Acklay's legs and bit into it with a sickening _crunch._ The Acklay shrieked in utter pain before it returned the favor, reaching its long down and chomping into the Terentateks shoulder.

The Sith Rancor growled in pain, releasing the leg as it tried to wrench itself free. The Acklay used this opportunity to throw the beast towards the airlock, stomping right after it. Before the Terentatek could rise, the crustacean slammed its leg down through it's chest. Blood splattered from the wound as the Sith Rancor was skewed to the deck.

Yet despite this, it refused to die! It grabbed the Acklay's leg and with its awesome strength, lifted it clear and threw it back. Blood pouring from its mouth, the Terentatek pulled itself up with the expectation of the Acklay coming to finish it off. It didn't however, and it watched the crustacean curiously thrashing around with a dazed expression.

* * *

"It's… fighting me!" Rey hissed through clenched teeth, "I can't hold it much…" then the rest of her words died with hyperventilating breaths.

"Chewie, get that thing off the Acklay!" Han shouted, "Dameron, Finn! Get the airlock ready!"

Across from the way, the Corsairs rallied and began pouring fire at the Terentatek and forcing it to turtle up and retreat. With a renewed effort, Rey reasserted her dominance over the Acklay and willed it to attack. It tackled into the Terentatek, rolling the Sith Rancor like a ball towards its destination.

"Just a little more… just a little-gah!" Rey sudden screamed as her eyes snapped open, her hands clenching the sides of her head. Ahead, the Acklay had stopped moving and then collapsed onto the floor; the Terentatek holding its severed head. The synaptic pain was too much.

Rey fainted and collapsed onto the floor.

* * *

"Rey! Rey!" Han exclaimed as he took the Jedi in arms.

"Drive it towards the airlock, lads!" he heard Sydow roar, "Drive it forward!"

"Yeah! Come an' get some of this!" another Corsair shouted over the roar of a rotary cannon, "Ol' Aayla is hungry!"

The Terentatek responded by hurling the Acklay's corpse at them. They dove out of the way, but it slammed into the pile of shipping crates behind them and brought it down in an avalanche. Han scooped Rey over his shoulder and ran as the storm of metal came for them. He dove forward, just barely missing a descending crate.

"Rey!" he uttered as he tried to stir her, "C'mon girl, wake up!"

" _Jeh-dai,"_ he heard behind him, seeing the damn monster limping towards them with a bloody smile. Han drew his blaster and growled.

"Over my dead body, you son of a-"

There was a loud roar and the Terentatek was sent sprawling as a bolt struck in the chest, followed by more as Chewbacca forced it back towards the airlock. He emptied his bowcaster into the beast before he ejected the cartridge to load another from his bandoleer. The Terentatek charged, and Han knew Chewbacca wouldn't be able to reload in time.

"Chewie! Get away from that thing!"

The Wookie answered the Sith Rancors roar with his own. He threw aside his weapon and meet the Terentatek's charge with fang and claw. He slammed into the beast with a tackle, grabbing its legs and pushing it towards the hangar door. The Terentatek rained blow after blow upon Chewbacca's back, and Han couldn't risk shooting lest he hit his friend.

Then with a mighty roar, Chewbacca slammed his fist into the monsters temple and stunned it. With incredible strength, the Wookie hefted the several ton mass like a strongman and threw it right into the opening airlock.

"See ya later, ugly!" Poe exclaimed as the void shields dropped, and everybody strapped in. Atmo whooshed out into the vacuum, soon to drag the Terentatek into space. The beast however had other ideas, digging its claws into the walls and slowly pulling itself through.

"Finn!" Poe exclaimed, "Close the door on this side!"

"What does it look like I'm doing!?" he shouted back, the doors beginning to close. Before they could however, the Terentatek grabbed onto them, prying them open as it started to pull itself through. Chewbacca snarled and threw itself at it, raining haymakers upon the Wookie suddenly echoed an unnerving scream.

"Chewie!" Han screamed, seeing to his horror the Terentatek's fangs clamped down up to Chewbacca's elbow. Desperately, Chewbacca braced himself against the door and tried to pry himself clear. The beasts fangs bit deeper, blood pooling out into space despite Han's efforts to free him.

The door buckled in, the creature's claws starting to lose their grip. Han knew that the Terentatek was going to drag his friend out into space with him, and he knew that even shooting it in the face wouldn't change that. There was only one way to save him. He reached over and plucked Finn's lightsaber from his belt.

"I'm sorry for this, Chewie," and he swung the blade. With a howl of pain and a flash of sapphire, the Terentatek flew out the airlock; taking with it a large chunk of the doors… and Chewbacca's arm still clamped in its teeth.

Han and Chewie fell in after it, but the void shields came up with seconds to spare followed by the outer doors. With a loud and painful thump, the two career smugglers bounced off the shielding, slumping onto the floor with audible groans.

" _Air Cyclation complete,"_ the PA system announced, " _normalizing pressure."_

"Chewie," Han groaned as he felt for his friend, "you okay?"

Chewbacca felt for the still smoldering stub. Despite the intense pain he was no doubt in, he didn't show it and allowed a tight smile, " _Had... worse."_

"I'll get you a new one," Han grumbled.

" _Long… as it's made… good Kashyyyk Wood."_

"Ain't you picky?" Han managed a tired smile, "I dunno about you… but I'm getting way too old for this."

" _Thinking… of… retiring?"_

"...nah. Let's get the hell off this boat."


	26. Chapter 21 - Dead in the Water

**Chapter 21 - Dead in the Water**

* * *

 _ **Providence**_ **-Class Dreadnought** _ **Scarlet Night**_

 **Edge of New Republic Space**

* * *

'What the hell are you doin', Jak?' First Mate Bonny Reed cursed to herself as she watched the floating freighter with a strained expression. It had been over an hour since The Captain had taken the armsmen aboard the _Ervana,_ and now thirty-four minutes since they'd received their last transmission requesting information on the price range of exotic beasts.

Bonny shook her head. She'd been with Sydow since he'd first started their outfit, and never was he ever this damn fool-hardy. 'Solo makes him stupid,' the Devaronian thought darkly, 'always has, always will.'

"Bonny," she heard the Second Mate whisper behind her, "it's been a while now. Should we send a second boarder over? Check the cap'n?"

"Have we received any transmissions?"

"Would've heard if we did," the Zabrak shrugged.

Bonny sighed, "Alright, prep the armsmen. Tell 'em we might have a bug problem. That means Rockets and D-Guns."

"Aye aye, Bonny," but before he could below the order, one of the helmsman suddenly perked up from his post with a shout.

"XO, something just got ejected from the _Ervana's_ airlock!"

"Can you get a reading, helmsman?"

"I'm pulling it up now, ma'am. I've got visual if you like."

"Put it on screen."

He nodded, and a second later, the bridge monitor came online with the image of something floating in the vacuum. Bonny stared at it with narrowed eyes, scrutinizing the image.

"What the blazes is that thing?"

"I have no idea," the Second Mate shook his head, "it's got arms and legs though, and it looks big."

"Helmsman, have we received transmission from the cap'n?"

"Negative, ma'am. Still nothin'."

Bonny gripped the back of the Captain's chair with ice cold fingers. Why the hell had this thing been ejected from the ship? What the hell was going on?

"What's the thing's trajectory?"

"It's coming right at us, ma'am. At this rate, we've got about ten or so minutes before it collides with us."

Bonny nodded, "Let's speed up that process, shall we? Lock tractors on it and bring it in. Mister Teege, inform Hangar 2 they may have a guest with teeth comin' in. Have them offer a warm welcome."

"Aye aye, ma'am," he about-faced, bellowing orders and reaching up to the comm. As general hands was called, Bonny shook her head.

"C'mon, Jak. Get outta this for me, will ya?"

* * *

Han groaned as he shouldered his friends hefty weight, but he didn't complain. Chewie had done the same for him countless times. Besides, whining was unbecoming.

"Okay," he heard Poe Dameron panting as they came out of the airlock. The man was practically soaked to the bone, "Tell me that thing is gone and out? I've seriously had it up to here with that thing taking everything we throw at it and throwing it back at us!"

"Indeed," Finn panted back, collapsing against the bulkhead, "we dropped a door on it, the pirates blew it up thrice, an Acklay stabbed it in the chest, and it took us throwing it out an airlock to get rid of it. Is it even dead?"

"Um," Poe looked over their shoulders through the airlock, "no. It's still moving."

"Uggh," Finn grumbled as he gripped the sides of his head, "that thing will not die! Perhaps we need to apply the Gen'Dai rule and throw it into the sun!"

"Oh no, I'm not getting anywhere near that thing again, thank you very much," Poe winced as he clutched his chest, "maybe it'll do us all a favor and end up on Hoth, or somethin'."

"Oh stop complaining, you yuppies," Han grumbled, "this was nothing compared to living in the belly of a space slug for weeks, or getting carbonated!"

" _Not… for lack… of trying,"_ Chewbacca hissed through clenched teeth. Poe just shook his head.

"I dunno, getting chased by unkillable rancor over there probably makes-"

He was promptly cut off when Chewbacca slammed his one good hand into the deckwall with a loud _thonk_ , leaving a nasty dent in its wake. Poe swallowed and nodded, "Right, point taken. Shall we get the hell out of here?"

"Where's Rey?" Finn groaned as he rose to his feet, "Where did you leave her?"

"Relax, plastic-boy," Han replied irately, "I left her by the ship… you two mind givin' me a hand here!?" he suddenly snapped with the air of military authority.

The two of them stepped to promptly, shouldering Chewbacca's weight… which they quickly regretted.

"What the hell are you eating, wookie?" Finn grumbled, "Entire dumbbells?"

"Dumbbells, man? How about entire cinder blocks!?" Poe shouted

"You best keep your tongues, boys. Wookies tend to have a nasty temper."

"Oh really?" Poe replied sarcastically, "He can't exactly rip my arm off with just one hand!"

Suddenly, Chewbacca stamped his foot onto Poe's, grabbed his arm and damn near hauled it up to the ceiling. Poe cringed as Chewie pulled just a little, Chewbacca's vicious grin widening as he did.

"Okay okay okay okay! You made your point! OW! Let me go!" and Chewbacca released him with a hearty chuckle before he doubled over, Finn steadying him.

Together, they maneuvered through the hodgepodge maze of shipping crates, blast containers and wrecked hover vehicles; shooting at the odd critter, droid and Corsair that came their way. After a minute of walking and climbing, the familiar faded green ship came into view.

"Finally," Han snorted, "alright, let's pick up Rey and take a look at the engine. Then we blast out of here."

"There's still the Interdictor Cruiser out there, sir," Poe warned, "It'll just grab us if we make a jump to lightspeed."

"Which is why we're gonna to make the jump here in the hangar instead out there in space. I got a good look at that Interdictor out there. It's an older model, and from the looks of it, it's been largely put together by patchwork. It won't have the power to keep its gravity wells on all the time and since we're locked down, it doesn't need to."

"But the moment we go outside, they'll turn it back on."

"Exactly, and it'll take a minimum of twenty to forty seconds to activate its gravity wells. We make a quick jump to the next system, and then to the nearest New Republic world in range. I doubt the pirates would be stupid enough to chase us, especially if there's an SDF Fleet around."

"You'd be right, of course," a familiar and mocking voice sounded, "if you'd be able to get out of this hangar to begin with!"

"Oh you've gotta be kidding me!" Poe groaned. They all turned to find the Crimson Corsair himself staring them down quite dramatically from atop a pile of crates and the headless body of the Acklay, all with his crew armed to the teeth.

"Jak," Han scoffed, "I thought you were dead."

"Haven't you heard, Han?" he gestured to his arm wrapped in a sling, "I'm immortal."

"Try lucky. Lucky to be alive, unlucky to be broke."

"...are you describing me, or you? It honestly sounds more like you, you washed up excuse for a smuggler!"

With a flash of anger, Han drew his sidearm. Sydow had has his drawn, the two men staring each other down.

"Why can't you just be a good boy and die?" Han growled

"You first."

"Oh for crying out loud!" Poe shouted, "Would you just stop for a second?"

"And why would I do that, Mr. Dameron?"

"Oh I don't know, how about the fact we just survived getting mauled by that oversized crab monster! Along with every other frickin' monster on this ship! So how about we cut each other some slack and go our separate ways before things get worse?"

"Survived, Mister Dameron? You didn't get mauled by the Terentatek, I did. And I would like me lads to get paid. Besides it was Han here who released 'em in the first place."

" _He… does have… a point,"_ Chewbacca replied with labored breath.

"Even the Wookie agrees with me. Speaking of which, I have a generous offer for you, Chewbacca. There isn't a bounty on you. You may leave, or perhaps even join me crew. I can provide you with a replacement for that arm."

" _Already… got one pup… to worry about,"_ Chewbacca hissed.

"Fair enough," Sydow nodded, "shame, I like you quite a bit. Han here don't deserve you."

"Are you going you to stand there and talk us to death?" Han shouted, "Or are we gonna get busy?"

"Han," Sydow tutted, "you really have no class, no style. I prefer a good talk before the shooting begins."

"Shooting?" Poe asked, "I thought you wanted us alive?"

"Dead **or** alive, Mister Dameron. The only mandate was your droid and the Jedi. The rest of you were just a bonus to be determined… and to be quite honest, you have really pissed me off. Do you know how much cred you've costed me thus far?"

"Cry me a river, Jack," Han growled, "why don't you come down here and settle this personally."

"Tempting, but I'd be a fool to give up my advantage over a little detail like pride," he then pointed his blaster a little straighter at him, "no, you're not going to swindle me like you did poor Lando, or shoot me under the table like you did that daft Rodian."

"BOSS, LOOK OUT!" one of the pirates shouted. Everybody turned to see the Reek's carcass flying at them.

"Oh, that's where she went," Sydow grumbled, "everybody off, lads!"

They jumped back as the Reek crashed into the crate hill, causing the entire thing to collapse into an avalanche.

"Run!" Han shouted as they sprinted for the Raptor ahead, the crates chasing after them. However, just before they could land on them, they were stopped in mid air like an invisible hand had scooped them up.

"Good girl," Han chuckled, and they eventually found Rey ahead at the ramp of the ship with her hand extended.

"Size matters not," she gritted her teeth, "yeah right."

When the party had cleared the floating ceiling of metal, she released it with a loud gasp. As the metal crashed into the deckplatting with an ear splitting _thump_ , Rey collapsed onto the floor in a daze. Han immediately scooped her up and ran her up into the ship, putting her down on the nearest available seat.

"Here, you sit and rest. You've done more than enough."

"Still might need my help… Dad," she said with a tired smile.

Han just smiled like all fathers do. "If I do, I'll let you know. Wait, where's the droid?"

"He's down in the engine room," she sighed, trying to catch her breath. No sooner than she said that, they heard shrill screams emanating from below.

"What the hell is he doing?" Han asked, and Rey just shook her head.

"He's a pyromaniac, and there are B-1's down there for him to fry."

"Oh brother," Han groaned. Abruptly, they hear maniacal laughter coming their way, turning to find BB-8 holding the head of a B-1, "' _Alas, poor Roger! I knew him well, Rey, and now he's dead! Ha ha ha!'"_

"Commander Dameron really needs to get that droid wiped," Han grumbled before he bellowed, "Droid! Drop that head now!" BB-8 did so like a scared cat. "Good. Now, what's the condition of the hyperdrive?"

"' _Shoddy, but manageable. Could use a little tune up.'"_

"Have to do," he shouted down the ramp, "get your hides in here! We're taking off!"

"No need to tell us twice, sir!" Poe shouted up at them as they were chased up the ramp by blaster fire, "Finn, get on the ventral gun! We might need covering fire!"

"Got it!" and Finn was gone. Rey promptly rose to her feet and shouldered Chewie over.

"Thanks," Poe nodded, "I'll get us started. Hopefully you'll have us ready to go by then!"

There was a scream, shout, and a pirate charging up the ramp. Rey promptly threw her hand forward and sent him flying right back out, the ramp closing behind him.

"Yeah, I hope."

"Rey, c'mon!" Han shouted as he headed down to the Engine Room, "I need a hand!"

* * *

"Take cover!" one of the Corsairs shouted as the sponson gun roared to life with scarlet fire. Promptly, they all dived for whatever was above man size and was at least two feet thick, trading shots and rocket fire to no avail.

"Save your bolts, lads!" Sydow shouted over the din, "You're practically throwing fruit at that thing! Ammo is expensive!"

"But boss, they're trying to get away!"

"I can see that, Mister Finnigan! Mister Crysk, run over here and hand me the communicator!"

"Um, Boss? I'm halfway across the hangar! I don't exactly have enough shares for that!"

"Oh for… stay right there!"

He rose and kicked some boxes over. The sound was enough to draw the ships fire, and he promptly dove across the hanger to where his comm operator was huddled in a corner.

"Boss, that was… that was impressive."

"Yes, I suppose it was, and you can kiss this jobs shares goodbye, you daft yellowbelly. Now, give me that!" he snatched the transmitter from him, turning him around to set up the frequency. After a moment, a craggy voice sounded.

" _Cap'n! I'm been tryna to reach you-"_

"Hold your tongue, Captain Calico, and lemme speak. Han Solo is attempting to make a jump to lightspeed in this here hangar. We need your gravity wells online before then."

" _Already on it, sir! But it'll take us forty or so seconds to get the blasted thing operational!"_

"Do not complain to me again about refits, Mister Calico. We can't afford them!"

" _Well if we could, we would not be in this mess to begin with! Hell, I'll contribute me shares to the bloody refits!"_

"You have a bargain, Mister Calico, and I take no reimbursements. Now, what were you trying to say?"

" _I was gonna say that Bonny's sent backup your way!"_

"What?" and then he heard the sound of heavy repulsors echoing through the hangar as a pair of LAAT Gunships appeared at the fore of the entrance, hovering there like avians searching for prey. Behind his mask, Jak smile.

"Tell Bonny I could kiss her!"

" _She might actually take you up on that, sir."_

"Aye, probably. Out," he then rose to his feet and bellowed, "LADS! TIME TO GET PAID!"

Amidst a bellowing warcry, the pirates resumed the attack.

* * *

"Oh you gotta be frickin' kidding me!" Poe cursed as the LAAT's opened fire. Though shieldless, the Raptor still had good armor especially for its cockpit. However, in less than five seconds, the entire duraglas frame was scorched black and Poe immediately switched on hull cameras. The moment he did, additional armor plating suddenly slid under the glass and formed a metal cocoon.

"Finn!" Poe shouted on the comm's, "We got company! I need covering fire!"

" _I'm a bit busy back here!"_ Finn called back, " _Besides, these lasers cannons are only operating at half-power! I don't think I could take them down before they blew me away!"_

"Carabast," Poe cursed darkly, "do what you can back there! I'll handle this, out!"

He then shuffled his hands over the various fire control modules, switching from missiles to torpedoes to their onboard heavy-grade laser cannons and Ion blasters. Every one of them read either _Empty_ or _Insufficient Power_. Poe slumped his head back in frustration as he ran through the situation before him.

The LAAT's appeared to be standard Republic Army variants, which meant they came with anti-ship missiles. The only reason why they weren't using them to turn them into a scrap pile was probably because they didn't want to go searching for their remains.

"They're just trying to keep us from leaving," Poe concluded before he grinned, "okay, boys. You wanna play Chicken? Let's play."

He immediately rocked his controls forward and the ships sublight engines roared to life. He rocketed forward at breakneck pace, aimed directly at the gunships. They veered right and left, and Poe fired off the grav thrusters to keep him in the hangar and swing him around. He knew the moment he went spaceborn, the surrounding ships could just hit them with ions and then hook them in with tractors.

As soon as he was steadied, he want at them again and clipped one in the wing; sending it spiralling away to the far side of the hangar.

"Guys! Where we at with that hyperdrive!?" Poe shouted over the intercom as the second LAAT raked his side with a beam particle weapon.

" _Keep your damn shorts on, kid!"_ Han shouted back, " _Hyperdrives almost ready! Lock in coordinates and jump as soon as it comes online! Rey, hand me the sismo-spanner!"_

"I know the damn plan, sir, but I'm also playing Chicken with a couple of gunships! Gah!" he screamed as the ship rocked, "Just hurry up!"

" _I'm not the one who took an Ion Torpedo to the gut just for the hellova it, Dameron! Rey, pull that line over! We need to link the auxiliary power!"_

" _Got it!"_ Rey shouted over the line, " _Poe, punch it!"_

"With pleasure! Everybody hang on!" he tapped in a quick micro jump for the next system over. Amidst the whirl of overwhelming noise, Poe was flung back in his seat like something had hit him in the chest. Everything felt slowed and stretched, and Poe felt he was being pulled in two different directions.

Then there was a sudden light akin to a rainbow and he was flung forward in his seat.

" _What the hell just happened!?"_ Finn shouted over the line, " _Why are we back in the hangar!?"_

"Ah kriff, they activated their damn Interdictor!" Poe responded, clutching his cracked ribs with a gasp of agonizing pain, "What do we do now?"

" _Divert all power to engines, Commander!"_ Han replied, " _We'll try to book it!"_

"They'll hit us with Ions the moment we go out there!"

" _I know,"_ Han replied, the air of defeat heavy in his voice, " _but we'll stand a better chance out there than we will in here."_

Poe could only shake his head, "We're dead. We're so very dead. Screw it. Hang on!"

He fired his engines away, roaring out of the ship like a rocket. It took the fleet exactly ten seconds to begin firing at them with an Ion barrage. Poe threw the ship into a barrel roll before diving at a steep angle, hoping to get behind the Ervana and use her hulk for cover. He didn't get the chance as the _Dreadnaught_ Heavy Cruiser suddenly appeared and fired a broadside at him. His instruments went wild as electricity bounced everywhere. The lights in the panel flickered and they went out.

They were dead in the water.

* * *

" _This is Captain Cannoway,"_ the commander of the _Plunderer_ reported on the intercom, " _we've got 'em, sir! They're floatin' underneath the ship!"_

Sydow had to resist the urge to laugh, "Well done, Cannoway! Extra shares for your gunners! Keep 'em there and under. I'll have Bonny hook 'em in."

" _Aye Aye, Cap'n. Out."_

When the transmission went out, he plugged into the _Scarlet Night's_ frequency, "Bonny, The Raptors been blasted. Hook 'em and take 'em captive. Use Nytinite gas if you have to, especially for the Jedi."

" _Will do, Sydow. Glad to hear you alive, you stupid old coot."_

"Ha. Coot I may be, but stupid I am not. Though, I don't feel especially alive, what with that damn Terentatek running a grav train over me."

" _Terentatek? Is that what you shot out of the airlock?"_

"Bonny, please tell me you didn't pull him in."

" _We are but he's still aways from us."_

"Good. I want you to blast the thing with everything you go."

" _Everything? Don't you think that's a little-"_

"Bonny, that thing is the sole reason Solo had a fighting chance in the first place. He bloody well threw that thing out 'cause we couldn't damn well kill it. So, atomize the bastard till there's not enough to fill a soup coup!"

" _What about your trophy room?"_

"Bonny, just kill it."

" _Aye Aye, Cap'n. Gun crews, prepare to-"_

" _Ma'am!"_ someone else shouted over the line, " _We're pickin' up signatures approaching the system! I count six of 'em!"_

" _Six? Where are they comin' from?"_

" _Hosnia, ma'am!"_

" _Oh no."_

Sydow immediately keyed in the entire fleet's signature, "This Captain Sydow! We have company! Prepare to-"

His words were cut off as battlefleet suddenly appeared at striking distance from their front. There was no question now. The New Republic had arrived.


	27. Chapter 22 - Here comes the Cavalry

**Chapter 25 - "Here comes the Cavalry"**

* * *

 ** _Nebula-_ Class Star Destroyer _Kenobi_**

 **Edge of New Republic Space**

* * *

"And we're positive it's them, Commander?"

"Aye, Commodore," the XO of the _Kenobi_ nodded, staring out at the assembled flotilla of scavenged Clone Wars era warships, "do you know any other ships that are painted completely red?"

"They're crimson, Commander, not red. There's a difference in the two."

"Of course, sir," she chuckled, "still, we've got a positive identification on the _Providence_ class. It's definitely the _Scarlet Night."_

"Of course it is," Commodore Wedge Antilles sighed with his trademark scowl, rubbing his hand through his cropped silver mane as his hard eyes stared out at their prey. Naturally, they'd been hunting them for months after their little raid on Weyland a few months back. 'Pursuing a legitimate bounty,' they'd said. Wedge knew the truth. The wannabes had sent them to do their dirty work again, and now was no exception.

Only now they had a good friend on the other end of the blaster. 'Well,' he mused as a cold smirk crossed his lips, 'always have to pull the heroes out of the fire, so why is this any different?'

"Battle stations," he commanded, "signal the fleet. Omega formation. We'll take it right into their teeth."

"Aye, sir," she turned to the helmsman, "Battle stations! Omega formation!"

Already the red alert status lights were flashing. Acknowledgement signals were being received as the fleet began moving into formation towards the enemy fleet. Flanking the _Kenobi_ on her left was the _Rendili IV-_ Class Assault Frigate _Torrent Star_ , its axeshape frame presenting a long spine of turbolasers ready to tear the enemy apart.

The Rendili was an old design that had served the Rebels during the war, and though Wedge had a healthy respect for it, he couldn't shake a feeling of old age catching up to him. Looking around at the crew of blue uniformed officers and crewmen all running about and performing their tasks, the feeling grew tighter in the pit of his stomach. The officers and some of the bridge crew were his since he'd traded his X-Wing for a captain's chair, but the rest were strangers.

'Boys,' he thought grumpily as he slumped into his commanding chair, 'too many boys.'

On either side of them were the three CR-95 _Vergilla-_ Class Corvettes _Avenger, Dauntless_ and _Surprise_. These were updated CR-90's, old blockade runners with stronger engines and a pair fuselage wings bristling with turbolasers and point-defense weapons attached to the head of the craft. Venerable craft updated, yet crewed by a generation that had never seen war. Oh sure, they'd seen their fair share of pirate actions, and the officers a few brushfires, but never actual war.

It was then he understood what was bothering him. Wedge knew what Han had been sent out to find, and apparently so did the enemy. This wasn't just a pirate group ahead of him. It was a foreshadowing of what was to come. War unlike anything the galaxy had seen. Not since the Rebellion… or even the Clone Wars for that matter, he admitted to himself.

Coming up behind him was the _Endurance-_ Class Carrier _Dodana,_ another of New Class ship. Like _The Kenobi,_ it had been a repurposed, refitted and overhauled captured Imperial warship, trading out much of its space for massive hangers, of which it began to deposit its deadly cargo of T-70 X-Wings, RZ-3 A-Wings, E-Wings and a squadron of the BTL-S8 K-Wing bombers. They swarmed over the field like locust, covering the advance of the fleet but keeping in well dispersed formations, like they'd been trained to.

Good ships, all of them, but all were over a decade and a half old. Sure, they'd been updated with the changing times, but that was the general problem with New Republic Navy R&D. Nothing new was being built, not since the Black Fleet Crisis and how handedly they'd crushed the Duskhan League.

Instead, what was old was being modernized and passed off as something new. The New Republic had grown comfortable with its position of power and the assumption of its invincibility when in reality, it shouldn't. They were surrounded by enemies in all but name, and yet instead of rapid response and innovation to meet these threats head on, the New Republic government was content to sit on their laurels and play catch up.

The thought damn near made him puke. Instead, he channeled this into controlled rage hidden behind a cruel smile, "Open comms with the _Scarlet Night._ It's time to give our friends a warm welcome."

"Aye aye, sir."

In a moment, the comm light flashed from a blinking orange to green, and a Devaronian female appeared on a holographic display. Smiling, Wedge rose to his feet, his hands clasped behind his back as he addressed the Corsair in a militaristic tone, "This is Commodore Wedge Antilles of _NRS Kenobi._ You have violated New Republic law and have assaulted citizens of the New Republic. If you do not disengage immediately, I will order my fleet to engage you, where you will be destroyed. You have five minutes to comply before we start shooting."

The Devaronian however did not respond immediately, though the expression of absolute terror was perfectly present on her face. Instead, she was looking over her shoulder, bellowing orders he could not make out, and a moment later, his comm officer shouted, "Sir, they're redirecting our visual comm signal to the _Ervana."_

The Devaronian was then replaced by the Crimson Corsair himself, who cocked his head at him and crossed his arms, " _Technically, Commodore, one is a deserter of the First Order. We are here on a perfectly legitimate bounty-"_

"Helmsman, target their Interdictor Cruiser and disable their shields."

"Aye sir," and in record time, red and blue bolts of plasma blasted away from the _Kenobi's_ weaponry and struck the Interdictor with precise hits, causing the ship to buckle and the shields to disperse upon the third volley. Under normal conditions, this would've taken longer, but with its gravity wells turned on, it wouldn't take much to destroy it at that point.

"Need I use my turbolasers, Sydow?" Wedge drawled with a vicious smile.

Sydow shook his head at him, " _No Commodore, you've made your point perfectly clear. However, we will require more than the five minutes you've given us to pack up and leave."_

"Oh, I understand," he held up his watch, "you have three minutes now."

" _No, we don't-"_

"I could always say you have none."

" _Oh for pity's sake, Antilles!"_ Sydow suddenly snapped, " _I have wounded on this bloody ship! I need twenty minutes at least to transfer them over!"_

"Then you can take the ship," Wedge said coolly, "but you will leave in exactly three minutes. Oh, and if I even suspect you're trying to grab Han Solo and his compatriots on the way out, I will destroy you and the rest of your second rate ships. Do I make myself clear?"

" _You did the first time, Antilles. Now I-"_ he turned his head to Corsair standing behind him, " _what is it? WHAT!?"_ he suddenly exclaimed. He turned his head to the side, and Wedge could make out a second holographic call, probably from the Devaronian.

" _Bonny, that blasted rancor is about to collide with the ship! Atomize it, now!"_

" _Cap'n, we can handle this ugly mook-swinker well 'nough-"_ there was a sudden _clang_ on her end of the transmission, as their heads all spun around to where the sound had come from, " _status report, where did it hit us? What? What do ya mean it's climbin' on the ship!? How the hell did it survive hitting us!?"_

"Get me a visual on their ship, helmsman," Wedge ordered, "I want to see what's going on."

"Aye aye, sir. Pulling up the feed now."

When the enhanced imagery came into focus, Wedge's eyes went wide with a mixture of awe, fear and surprise. This was in turn somewhat shocking to the bridge crew; they'd never seen him scared before.

"Sir?" the XO asked, "Do you know what this is?"

"That's a Terentatek, a Jedi Killer," Wedge replied, his voice grave, "last time I ran into one of those, it damn near ate me and Luke."

As if to emphasize his point, the creature began literally climbing up the side of the cruiser, making its way to the command bridge like a wookie climbing a tree. It didn't even seem remotely affected by the vacuum or the extreme cold.

"I don't know how the hell it got here," Wedge's face hardened, "but it ain't leaving. Helmsman, the moment that thing gets spaced, blast it with everything we got."

"I don't think that'll be necessary, sir," the helmsman replied, "look."

From the ships hangar, a pair of maroon colored Clone Wars-era Vulture Droids zoomed upwards towards the creature, flying over it and then zipping back around to get its attention. When they did and the beast turned its head in their direction, one of them landed on its wings tips like a spider and began firing its fuselage mounted blaster cannons and an underbelly chaingun.

The beasts supernatural carapace absorbed the impacts with frightening efficiency. Shielding its face with its two massive arms, the beast began marching towards the pest, digging its clawed feet into the deckplatting one foot at a time.

"Okay, what the hell is this?" the Helmsmen asked, "Even a full grown bull rancor would go down to that onslaught."

"This creature is a Sith creation, helmsman," Wedge narrowed his eyes, "nothing short of a lightsaber to the head, or a blast from a ship grade turbolaser is going to kill it."

"What are they trying to do then?" the XO asked, "Piss it even more off?"

"No," Wedge smirked knowingly, "they're going to hogtie it."

The Terentatek was finally within striking distance after having its armor redecorated a fine black char. It dugs its feet and then lunged, the Vulture droid hopping back and just barely missing the Terentatek's reach. As it floated in midair, the second Vulture droid flew past it, dragging a long tow-cable. With an accuracy and timing only possible to droids, the cable hooked into the beasts' thorax and began to loop it around and around until it hooked onto a d-ring.

"They're gonna take that thing away from the ship and then blast it," the XO nodded with approval. Wedge however didn't relax for even a moment, his hands digging into the arms of the chair. Sure enough, his instincts were right. Before the Droid could get the beast out to an optimal firing distance, the Terentatek started to pull itself up the cable until it grabbed onto the Droid's fuselage itself. With an inaudible roar, it slammed its fists right into the Droid's 'head' and the Droid went haywire.

It flew this way and that, spiraling out of control and right back towards the ship, crashing along its spine in a blazing firestorm. Through the wreckage emerged the monster, still alive and somehow still kicking. The other Vulture remained in the standoff, firing and shooting and generally hopping over the monster every time it tried to make a lunge for the craft. The result was still the same, though. The Terentatek wasn't going anywhere.

" _Alright, that's enough,"_ Sydow cursed, " _Bonny, take the ship and hyperdrive out. That should either snuff it out or strand it in the void. Either way works."_

" _Aye sir. What about you?"_

Sydow turned his head back to Antilles, " _We've got three minutes, right?"_

"Starting now," Antilles nodded.

" _Fair enough. Lads, get this junker flying."_

The transmission then cut out and Wedge could only shake his head at the absurdity of the whole situation. He slumped into his command chair with a groan. He was getting too old for this.

"Sir," the comms officer interjected, "Black Squadron's requesting permission to bring them in and run escort."

A tired, knowing smile passed the former fighter jockey's lips. Pilots always protected their own, "Granted. But have Blue Squadron keep a close on things. Once the pirates are gone, tractor the Raptor to our hangar bays. Have medical crews stand by to pick up any wounded."

"Aye sir. Should we be expecting any wounded?"

"You kiddin'? This is Han Solo we're talking about. Folks always get hurt around him."

* * *

"Never thought I'd actually be happy to see the law actually show up for once," Han chuckled as he looked out the viewport at the New Republic fleet encircling them and the swarm of fighters coming their way.

"Well, you know what they say about irony gah!" Rey hissed as she pulled her hand back from an exposed wire, suckling on the burned fingers, "Honestly, I'm just more amazed that our baby hasn't gone out on us yet."

"That's because she was made by a Solo, little one," Han shook his head, "anything and everything made by us is indestructible."

She pulled her head out of the duck board and shot him a look, "Really?"

"Nah," Han chuckled, "any luck with getting our comms back?"

"Working on it," she sighed as she went back under, "she's gonna have to go into the shop after this. There's no way in the Kessel Maw she'll be flying well or… well, doing anything well for that fact, after getting zapped twice! And nearly getting pancaked how many times-"

"Rey, focus," Han interrupted, "you break things when you ramble."

"I do not!" she protested.

"Really?" Han shot her a fodder-eating grin, "Like that time you veered right into that comet because you were too busy arguing with Kali? Or that time you damn near crashed the Falcon because you were trying to impress my kid?"

"I was not trying to impress Cale! Why does everybody keep thinking I was?"

"Because you're terrible at flying and you won't admit it. The only reason why you tried to fly the Falcon was because Cale called you out on the fact that you crash every single thing ship you get into."

"I do not crash every ship I get into!"

"Oh really? Rey, you even crash parked ships! And you somehow manage to hit things that you realistically shouldn't! I mean, space is vast and three dimensional! Yet you somehow manage to do it anyway! It's almost impressive in a way."

"Let me guess? If there was a sport of crashing ships, I'd win a medal?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Hand me the socket."

"Oh come on, I'm not terrible," she sighed after a moment, handing him the tool, "fine, I am that terrible. I'm better at fixing ships than I am at flying them."

"And that's perfectly fine, dear," Han grinned as he turned the last nozzle over, "and… we have proper gravity."

Han and Rey then hit the ground, removing their harnesses in the process. Unfortunately, everything else that was floating came down the same way.

"Ow!" Rey screamed as a siphoner hit her in the back, "Couldn't you have warned me first?"

"Yeah, could've," Han smirked, "but I consider it motivational."

"Oh, har har har. You're hilarious."

"I know I am. Need anything?"

"Gimme the line-phaser," there was a sudden flash and power systems started sparking along the multiple exposed conduits. Rey emerged from the underdeck, wiping her brow with with an oily backhand, "okay, I think that should do it."

"Good girl," Han beamed, patting her shoulder as he bellowed up to the cockpit, "Dameron! Give it a try now!"

"Already on it, sir!" Poe called back as he began turning dials and working the frequency line, "This is Commander Dameron, code signal 507-Besh-Aurek! I have a high priority package aboard. Anybody care to fish us out of here, over?"

There was a voice on the other end, but it was badly distorted by the static, "Say again? You're coming in garbled! Frequency," he checked comm channel, "34.5, over."

" _I said,"_ a rather sultry and overwhelmingly sarcastic feminine voice on the other end replied, " _why do you think we're here, hotshot?"_

As if on cue, a squadron of six T-70 X-Wings flew right past them, orange and black in trim with rancor maw's painted on their noses. Poe smiled like a goon as he propped his legs onto the dashboard, "Oh y'know, Deliah," he shrugged his shoulders, "showing up late after I've done all the work? You guys might as well be janitors the way you clean up after me."

" _Heh,"_ a burly voice on the other end replied, " _glad to see you still haven't lost your sense of humor, Poe. Seriously, our lives would be dull without you."_

"Aw, thanks for that, Snap. Don't worry, I saved some for the rest of you."

" _Really?"_ the baritoned voice of a Duros scoffed, " _Is that you being generous or us having to save your hide again, you frickin' damsel in distress?"_

"Pff, you kiddin', L'ulu? I was in complete control before y'all stormed in and stole my glory!"

" _Ha!"_ Deliah laughed, " _alright, Snap. Pay up!"_

" _What? Why? We still haven't seen him yet!"_

" _With that sense of humor? He's fine and you know it! Now pay up, stingy!"_

" _Not yet. We got to see if he's actually fine first."_

"What's this?" Poe laughed, "You guy's betting I was dead or something?"

" _No,"_ L'ulu replied, " _well, sort of. I was betting you were dead. Snap and the most of the others bet you were crippled. Hell, there was even sub betting on whether it would be missing hands or missing legs. You know, the sort of thing to take that insufferable smirk off your face."_

"I love you too, L'ulu. Hold on, if Snap and the others were bettin' I was crippled… what was Deliah betting on?"

There was a loud pinging sound akin to a register that Poe recognized as a money transfer. He could practically feel the fodder-eating smirk in her voice as Deliah answered, "What can I say, Poe? I never lost faith in you. Who needs a pay raise when I have you?"

"Heh, happy to oblige."

" _Oh my aching wallet,"_ Snap moaned through the comm, " _so, you guys need a lift?"_

"Uh, yeah. We're basically dead in the water and operating on backup, backup emergency power."

" _See, what I'd tell you?"_ Deliah laughed, " _You're my reliable source of luck, Poe."_

"Careful, Commander Blue. I might take that as an invitation."

" _In your dreams, Dameron. I still hold the title as the only lady who hasn't end up with you, and I'm a Zeltron for crying out loud. I plan to keep that title."_

"Yeah, it is surprising you haven't used your pheromones on yours truly."

" _What makes you think I haven't?"_

Poe stared at the comm for a moment, "Wait, that's why I keep losing time when we were off duty and I keep waking up in strange places?"

" _Only when we hit the bottle, or when you get a little too charming."_

" _Y'know,"_ L'ulu said on the line, " _it's probably a good thing this is a secure,_ _ **private**_ _channel? There is such a thing as too much information."_

" _What, you kidding?"_ Snap chuckled, " _That's practically an open secret!"_

" _Open does not mean discussed or confirmed, Snap,"_ the older veteran chided darkly, " _you yuppies act like children half the time. In my day-"_

" _In your day, you blew up a Death Star and the Executor and yada yada yada,"_ Deliah interjected sarcastically, " _well, it's been thirty years since your day."_

" _When you get my age, pink-skin, time becomes rather irrelevant."_

" _Oh would you stop with that old talk-"_

"Look, guys," Poe interrupted, "I'm enjoying this conversation and all, but I'm trying to contact the fleet commander so we can, y'know, not drift in the middle of space?"

" _Oh I don't know,"_ Deliah, replied, " _I kinda like you like this. Helpless, needing a rescue? It's a nice change of pace. You contacting the Old Man takes away our position of power."_

" _Yes, the position of power is very important,"_ Snap added, " _not about to give it up, no sir."_

" _See what I mean, Dameron?"_ L'ulu asked, " _Children."_

Poe facepalmed at all of this, sighing, "Guys, I have had a terrible week. Mind cutting me some slack before I cut your pay-grades?"

" _Ooh, scary!"_ Deliah laughed, " _You can really only threaten us with that so many times before it loses its effectiveness."_

There were footsteps coming up behind Poe, and he smirked at the dawning revelation, "Okay, well here's a new one. I happen to be caretaking a war hero, a wookie and a Jedi. I'm pretty sure the Old Man would like to talk to them and, y'know, not have his time wasted about positions of power and all that?"

" _As you wish, Oh Baron and Count Flyboy of Lowly Degobah, Charming prince of the Mudsnakes. Seducer of men and women-"_ Deliah began with an overly polite and sarcastic announcers voice before Poe cut her off.

"Hey! I do not swing that way, and you know it! Now gimme the damn code or I swear I will free jump out of this ship, float to you and then hijack your X-Wing!"

" _Hey, I'd pay to see that!"_ Snap laughed over the comm, " _You just joyridin' her X-Wing-"_

" _Perhaps her being hogtied and dragged behind the ship's wake?"_ L'ulu cut in with a wry smile to his voice.

" _Okay, who's side are you guys on anyway?"_ Deliah exclaimed.

" _Well, we were on yours... right until you pinched our wallets,"_ Snap replied, " _but all seriousness, let's get Kenobi on the line."_

* * *

"Sir," the comm officer asked as he pulled one of his ear muffs off, "Black Squadron reports Commander Dameron is alive and well and has the package in hand. He also reports that he has a Jedi and a defectee from the First Order on board. He and Solo are requesting pick up."

"See it done." Wedge ordered, "When they are aboard, have the medical personnel see to them, and then order the fleet to withdraw back to base."

"What about the supposed First Order defectee that is with them?"

Wedge shook his head with a groan, "Assuming this is true, we'll let Shrike and his boys handle that when we get back to base. Until then, have him under armed escort."

"Aye sir."

He then turned back to Sydow in the holocall, "So, you have thirty seconds to go, pirate. How's it looking over there?"

" _Oh, ye of so little faith,"_ Sydow shook his head, " _I am a man of my word, and when you said three minutes, I took it seriously."_

"I'll take your word when I see your engine block, pirate."

" _I have a name, you know?"_

"Do I look like I care?"

" _No, you look like someone who should have stayed retired, Antilles."_

"And miss chasing you across the Outer Rim?"

" _Chase is a rather vague word, Antilles. More like you've been cleaning up after us, long behind in our wake."_

"Yeah I suppose, more like you run like a Mouse Droid when he sees a Wookie."

" _Well… it's not exactly a fair fight."_

"The Crimson Corsair, bravely runs away as always."

" _Hmm, sounds like you during the days of the Empire."_

"Shoes on the other foot now, Pirate."

" _For how long, I wonder... rebel?"_

Wedge's eyes narrowed as his face remained unchanged, "10 seconds left."

" _More like 5, Antilles. Coordinates locked, Mister Carson?"_

" _Aye sir. Preparing to jump now."_

Wedge looked at his watch, "5, 4, 3, get a targeting lock, 2, 1."

The ships of the New Republic prepared to open fire on the fleet of pirate ships, but before they could, white knives tore into the materium and caused it to flatten like paper bending. The pirate ships stretched like rubber and with a flash, they were gone.

"And thus the chase continues," Wedge shook his head, "are they onboard yet?"

"Air sir," the helmsman replied, "and the rest of the wings are returning to ship."

"Plot a course for Takodana, then. Let's go home."

* * *

A minute later and after the last of the New Republic fighters were safely stored aboard the _Dodona_ and _Kenobi_ , the fleet entered hyperspace and was on its way to it destination. Unbeknownst to them however, was the old-Imperial Viper Droid, painted completely black as it floated in the vacuum of space. It's cam-eye had recorded the departure, and calculated the general direction the fleet had gone. Several minutes later, a single shuttle craft reappeared close to the former standoff.

"Cap'n, we got it," the Corsair pilot informed Sydow over the long comm line, "and looks like the droids got everything."

" _Good,"_ Sydow replied, " _bring it home, lad. We'll soon find out where they went. As I always say, I never leave a job unfinished."_


	28. Chapter 23 - Congregation

**Chapter 26 - Congregations**

* * *

 **Resurgent-Class Star Destroyer _Ravager_**

 **High Orbit of Vardos**

* * *

The Jinatan sun slowly rose over the surface of the red and gray industrial world, painting it gold and white like an impressionist at work.

In many ways, Hux hated this planet, with its cold and grimmy weather, skies choked with ceaseless gray overcast, scarlet lightening and industrial pollutants. Even the people themselves were a boring, fanatical lot that couldn't be bothered with a conversation beyond the glory of the First order and all that. Even their architecture was an analogy of this, functional and spartan with an obsession for concrete.

It reminded him badly of all those Core Worlds turned to the fancy of Palpatine. He wasn't surprised though. This planet had been the first turned to the service and industry of new government, with many of their ships and weapons produced here. 'Little Kuat' had been its nickname, but even Kuatians were not nearly as dull or single minded as the Vardos.

This however was something Kuat did not have, or many other planets for that matter. An odd little rotation where the planet came in just right to where the sun appeared over the top of the planet, like dawn over an horizon.

"And what an horizon it is," Hux smiled, "a pity it had to be wasted on this miserable excuse for a planet."

"Sir," his comms officer reported, "we're getting a transmission from the Scarlet Corsairs."

"Crimson Corsairs, man." the weapons officer corrected with a chuckle.

"What difference does it make? It's a shade of red!"

Hux couldn't help but chuckle at the humor. In the past, such a thing would've been disciplined, but Hux didn't bother with such nonsense. It was a sign of cheer and morale, something a good officer tried to inspire.

Granted, Captain Canady was of a different sort of mind.

"Stow the banter, ensign," he snorted, "and bring it up on screen."

"Aye sir. Sorry sir."

As soon as the officer did, the image of Sydow appeared across the black holoscreen, and in the background Hux could hear the pirates singing.

" _Bravely taking to his fleet_

 _He beat a very brave retreat_

 _Bravest of the brave, Abrahm Jonston._

 _Packing it in and Packing it up_

 _and sneaking away and buggering off._

 _And chickening out and pissing off home_

 _Yes, he is throwing in the cloth."_

Hux rolled his eyes. It was the song the pirates sang whenever they had to retreat; a way of getting themselves all riled up again. "Your men are singing about my old superior, Captain?"

" _Don't tell me you're defending the reputation of the man, Admiral Hux,"_ Sydow titled his head oddly and Hux could all but hear the smirk in his voice, " _after all, you were the one who wrote that disgraceful, scandalous eulogy about the 'good' Admiral Jonston. About how he so kindly blunder his attack and tried to run away-"_

"Yes yes, you don't need to remind me," Hux snorted, "or my men for that matter. The name Jonston should be forgotten."

" _You are the one who immortalized the man, Admiral,"_ Sydow's helmed head tilted down and Hux could feel the sodder-eating grin, " _the song is based off your eulogy."_

"Captain Sydow," Canady growled, "what the Admiral is kindly trying to say is stop singing the bloody song! The last thing we need is for our own to start singing it as well!"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" the deck officer asked.

"Granted," Canady sighed.

"It is kind of catchy, sir."

"Anybody caught singing that song will be given latrine duty, and that is final!"

"Aw," the deck officer groaned as he about faced and returned to his duties.

"Speaking of running away, Captain," Hux smiled wryly, "I hear you got chased off by Commodore Antilles, again."

" _Really?"_ Sydow snorted, " _Need I mention the name Ackbar? Besides, he's not reason the op went completely and absolutely Endor for us that a flame on hoth had better chances of survival."_

"Well, that is colorful description," Canady snorted, "and what is the reason that you botched this relatively simple operation?"

" _Point your cams to the Scarlet Night's bow and you'll see why."_

Hux nodded, and there clinging to the side of the ship, was a monster.

"What the hell?" Hux raised his eyebrow in surprise. Suddenly, the blast doors to the bridge opened and Kylo Ren stormed in, his pace that of a man particularly anger about something.

"Admiral, I am sensing a sith spawn in system. I need you to conduct scans so that-" he then noticed the the creature on the viewing monitor, "Oh, you found it."

" _Well well, if it isn't the fabled man in black,"_ Sydow chuckled, " _so, as you can see, this bastard survived a jump through hyperspace. So, I think you can understand why this operation was botched."_

"Oh I certainly can," Kylo nodded as he stood next to Canady and Hux, his arms crossed, "I killed two of these things during the Marka Ragnos Crisis."

" _Good,"_ Sydow nodded, his voice sounding a little strained, " _then could you kindly do me the favor of getting it off of my ship! I've lost twenty good lads and a Vulture Droid to this monstrosity already!"_

"Patience, Captain," Kylo Ren replied coolly, "I will get it off of your ship in good time. First, I want to know why it's on your ship to begin with."

" _Because Han Solo sicked the bloody thing on us. That thing is the sole reason he and his fellows got away."_

"I see," Hux mused before sighing, "Captain, I want you to come aboard immediately. We will debrief the extent of this… calamity, in private."

" _Not before you get this thing off my ship."_

Kylo Ren nodded, "Contact the Armory. Tell them to get my EVA attachments ready, and have my shuttle prepared for launch."

He then about-faced and headed out the blast door. Sydow chuckled as he went, " _See? That wasn't so hard."_

"Just get over here, pirate," Canady grumbled.

" _Gladly, fascist."_

"Helmsman," Canady ordered, "if the pirate refuses to disembark his ship in five minutes, tear a hole through that freighter of theirs."

" _Well aren't you cheeky?"_ Sydow laughed, " _Don't worry, I'm going. Expect me in three."_

The signal went dark, and Hux just shook his head, "Pirates."

"Don't worry, sir," Canady chuckled, "once war begins, we won't have a need for Mr. Flamboyant over yonder."

"Somehow, I doubt that, Marcus," Hux scoffed, "is Captain Phasma cleared from medical?"

"Aye sir, she is. Reports say she'll be ready for active duty shortly. Tough bird, you pick 'em well. Oh, and she's requested to see you, sir."

"Good. Have her sent to my office immediately."

"Um, sir? Isn't Sydow going to be there as well?"

"Yes, he is."

"She's not going to like this."

"I know," Hux replied as he turned on his heel, "you have con, Captain Canady."

"Aye sir."

* * *

Captain Jak Sydow didn't say anything at all after the initial explanations of what had happened were concluded. Instead, he just sat there, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed as he stared at Admiral Hux and Captain Phasma across from him. In truth, he was really staring at Phasma with narrowed eyes. Finally, he decided to ask the obvious.

"Why is she here?"

"She is here because I requested it, Captain," Hux smiled tightly, leaning back in his chair, "because I want you both to learn a little lesson in perspective."

"You don't pay me for perspective, Admiral."

"What exactly do we pay you for, pirate? Oh," Phasma said sarcastically, "that's right. To catch a broken down ugly that I happened to soften up for you… and you couldn't even manage that."

"I'm sorry, lass," Sydow shot back, "coming from the same woman who couldn't even catch said ugly that was, how should we say it? Broken down? I find that rather hilarious."

"Anymore hilarious than you being mauled by an undersized rancor? Not once, I've heard, but twice?"

"Ah yes, but humorous as that is, at least my boys are still loyal to me and not running off to the New Republic. Oh, by the way, what exactly gave you the inclination to speak?"

"The fact that you are standing on a First Order ship, dealing in a matter that involves one of **my** troopers," Phasma growled.

"Ah," Sydow smirked under the helm, "you mean the mess you made, that I was brought in to clean up?"

"Which you couldn't even manage."

"At least I have a justification for the matter. Now, do us all a favor, love, and be quiet."

Though Phasma was still wearing helm and armor, her indignation still burned quite through. Hux allowed himself a tired smile.

"This is why I brought you both here, Captains. You've put me and the entire Order in a very delicate position. We are on the verge of war, and we are still missing the key instrument to our survival in this conflict, let alone success. Which is why I hope that you have something to remedy the situation, Captain Sydow."

"I do actually, Admiral," he then produced a holo-displayer and put it on the table. A moment later, it flickered to life and displayed the departure of the New Republic battlegroup, "I already have cartographers analyzing the trajectory. We'll have an idea of what direction they went soon."

"Assuming they didn't perform multiple jumps?" Phasma asked with disdain.

"Then we will search all nearby habitable systems." Sydow drawled, "Contrary to popular belief lass, Pirates aren't stupid," he leaned forward till he was practically in her face, "after all a stupid pirate is a dead pirate, much like a certain tribe of raiders from Parnassos."

Phasma's hand curled into a fist and she set it down on the table, lest she throw herself at him. However, she didn't let it show in her voice as she callously replied with a sharp smile, "So says the man who got left in the vacuum by his best friend all because of a girl."

"Says the butch who spends long hours in the night weeping about the traitors." Sydow retorted scathingly

"Says the man who betrayed his friend." Phasma bit back.

"Han betrayed me first, over a bloody woman!" Sydow exclaimed, surging to his feet amid the clamor of his clattering chair, "One that bloody betrayed him not five minutes earlier!"

"And I suppose that makes it better?"

"Why you-"

Hux decided now was the time to intervene, "Enough, both of you," he growled, not even raising his voice or moving from his chair as he continued. "In case you haven't noticed, the droid is getting further and further into the New Republic space, along with a Jedi."

"What the hell does she matter?" Sydow asked, "She's a middling knight that nobody cares about."

"'A middling knight that nobody cares about?' I've never heard a more lacking description for one of the apprentices of Master A'Sharad Hett." the voice of Kylo Ren spat behind them with an edge to his tone, turning the pirate captains blood to ice.

Slowly, he turned around to face the Lord of Ren, noting immediately a long claw mark across his chest that had torn away the robes to reveal the armored plate beneath. The beast had only stripped the polymer layer from it with its attack, making Sydow wonder what the hell the armor was made from.

"Master Hett?" Sydow asked, chuckling grimly as he did, "So, she can't be Kali, so that makes her Rey, eh? Well, that would have been nice to know."

"Is that a problem?" Phasma drawled.

"Yes, m'lady," Sydow snorted, "my men and I were fortunate that she wasn't at her best, otherwise we would have been in a black hole's gravity well with no engines. Especially if she's anything like her master, or hell, even her father."

"You seem to know quite a lot about this Jedi." Phasma observed, "Care to explain, pirate?"

"Oh that's easy, love. I was in the employ of A'sharad Hett and Deba Jarrus back in their little crusade against Zhan and Zorba the Hutt. Well, before the New Republic in their infinite wisdom decided to try and arrest me because I claimed some of Zhan's ships for me fleet. Completely forgot that I had the right of salvage, of course. But that's bureaucrats for you."

"And that is beside the point," Kylo cut in, "she was… at the Temple, when my predecessor attacked it."

"You know her, don't you, son?" Hux asked, "That's why you had our teams called off on Jakku."

"I do." Kylo answered simply, "and those Troopers are alive because of it."

"Care to explain how you know her?"

"That is not your concern, Admiral." Kylo answered coldly

"Lord Ren." Hux stated crisply, "Any information you can provide on this woman would be extremely helpful in our efforts to defeat her."

"You won't need to. The next time, I will deal with her personally."

"Son, I'm sorry, but that's not good enough."

Kylo stared at him, and Hux could feel the intense gaze behind the dark visor. He matched it without flinching. It hadn't been the first time he had to deal with Dark Siders with an agenda or secrets for that matter

Kylo just nodded, "I appreciate your candor, Admiral. All you need to know is that she and I were graduates in the same year."

Phasma fixed him with a stare, "You were a Jedi, Lord Ren?"

"We all come from somewhere, Captain." Kylo told her without looking away from Hux, "but that is not why I am here. I know where Antilles is taking them."

"Let me guess," Sydow asked with a sarcastic tilt of the head amid the surprised faces, "you got foresight up your sleeve?"

"No, it's much simpler than that, Captain. I had a word with your cartographers after I threw that Alpha Terentatek into a cage… you're lucky to be breathing," Sydow could detect the edgings of a smirk in the Sith's voice as he continued, "and assuming that Antilles hadn't made an additional, alternate jump, there is only one place on his trajectory that he would ever think of going to."

"Where?" Hux asked.

"The Jedi Temple on Takodana, of course."

Sydo chuckled, "Of course it is. Place being so fortified it'd give the Imperial Death Squadron pause. 'Sides, I don't think the Rangers trust the New Republic much anymore, all things considered."

"It was breached once before," Phasma noted, shaking her head again, "surely it can be again."

"By the combined forces of our fiefdoms, Captain," Kylo pointed out, "and only after they were sabotaged from within. They won't be so easily caught off guard this time."

"Oh, you leave that to me, m'lord," Sydow replied, an aged confidence in his voice, "it ain't the first time I've had to break into a fortress. I'm a crafty bastard, after all."

"I appreciate your spirit, Captain," Kylo chuckled for a moment, "and I don't doubt your luck, considering you survived the Alpha Terentatek. But, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to keep an eye on my Investments, even if I have all the faith in their success."

"Lad, I was gonna ask you to come anyway," Sydow tilted his head incredulously, "after all, fighting Jedi is supposed to be **your** job. So, you'll be doing that while I grab us the payday."

"With one condition, Captain," Hux interjected, "Phasma is going with you."

The two Captains did a double take, but only Sydow voiced his objections, "Why the hell should I do that exactly, Admiral?"

"As Lord Ren pointed out, I would like an eye on this investment."

"Who's to say I'm not yours, Admiral?" Kylo asked with a tilt of his head.

"Lord Ren," Hux leaned forward in his seat, "you and I both know that while we work towards the same goal, you are not under my jurisdiction nor under my command. As such, I can not entirely rely on your… personal agendas."

"Do you question my loyalty, Admiral Hux?"

"Not at all. I'm just uncertain if your priorities are the same as ours."

"Fair enough, Admiral. How many Troopers will you be bringing with you, Captain Phasma?"

"Four," she replied simply, "personally selected operators from the Commando Corps. They'll do their job well enough."

"Good, but make sure that they use Sydow's equipment and gear. We don't want to risk the New Republic tracing anything back to us." the Admiral told her.

"There's one other thing," Sydow added, "if we're gonna do this job and assuming Antilles is still there, I'm gonna need to call in the rest of me fleet."

"How long will take, Captain?" Hux asked with a tired sigh.

"Three days, maybe two if they push it."

"That's too long a time frame." Hux grimaced

"I disagree," Kylo countered, "we actually have a time advantage here."

"How so?"

"There's going to be a government assembly in a few days. All eyes and assets are going to be on it, and if things go as they're planned, we'll have a window to make this attack."

Hux eyed the darksider for a moment, his eyes full of questions "What do you mean 'things go as planned?'"

"Let's just say there's going to be a great deal of chaos that will follow the outcome of that assembly, and the last thing the Rangers on Takodana will want to do is announce their presence to the New Republic."

Hux nodded, careful not to show his true emotions beneath the weathered face. 'Damn it, Armitage,' he cursed softly, 'what the hell are you doing?'

Sydow had watched the old man's face carefully, knowing a poker face when he saw one, "I don't suppose this has something to do with what Ambassador Hux is doing?" At Kylo's gaze, Sydow shrugged his shoulders, "What? I keep my ear to the ground."

"Let's just say the good Admiral's son has done well in his meetings with Chancellor Borealis," Kylo replied simply, "so are we in agreement, then?"

Hux sighed, his eyes sliding down to look at the obsidian table; his own reflection staring back at him. "We are. Make it so, and…" he shook his head, "may fate be kind to us, just this once."

"Fate is kind to no one." Kylo answered, "she's a hag at heart."

"Perfect for one nighters." Sydow chuckled.

"I'm not entirely sure what's more disturbing," Phasma shook her head, "that you have a sense of humor, Lord Ren, or that you share the same kind as the pirate."

"Oh, you should've seen me when I was younger, Captain. I was much worse."

"You have me curious, my lord."

"Careful, Captain. There are some secrets that are better left alone."

"Can't blame a girl for being curious."

"Heh, I suppose not."

"Please tell me we're not gonna get in a good happy circle now and start singing?" Sydow asked with a smirk as Hux just shook his head.

"You are all dismissed. Proceed with your duties. And Captain," he beckoned for Phasma, "I want to see you at oh-seventeen-hundred. We need to talk, you and I."

"Aye aye, sir."


	29. Chapter 24 - Takodana

**Chapter 27 - Takodana**

* * *

 ** _Nebula_ -Class Star Destroyer _Kenobi_**

 **Hyperspace**

* * *

" _All hands, we are approaching our rendezvous coordinates,"_ the intercom blared out in the sick bay, " _prepare for deceleration and emergence into real space."_

"That was fast." Finn mused as the medical officer applied the last of the gauze over his eye, "we've only been in hyperspace for a few hours."

Poe chuckled, pulling on a white cotton shirt over his bandaged chest, "One of the benefits of the new 0.8 hyperdrive engines ow!" he groaned as fresh pain hit him from his ribs, "And how long is this gonna take, doc?"

The medical officer just shook his head, "If you don't mess with the bacta strips, don't do anything stupid and get some rest? A couple of days."

"Great, nice to know. Great bedside manner, by the way."

"Flyboy," and the officer went off to treat his other patients.

"Whitecoat," Poe scoffed, "where was I? Oh yeah, 0.8 hyperdrives."

Finn shook his head, "Amazing, considering this is a repurposed Imperial II. The First Order hasn't managed to crack 1.2 for the Resurgent class."

"Heh, nice to know we'll have the speed advantage in the war."

"I don't think that was what Finn was getting at, Poe," Rey said across from them, a bacta strip and ice pack over her head, "you said the rendezvous was gonna take us a couple of days, and the Raptor has a class 1."

"Hold on a second. You're telling me that your boyfriends ship-"

"It's my ship too, Poe. I built her after all."

"Whatever. My point is, your ship, Cale's ship, is slower than his dads?"

"Maybe," she cracked a smile, "but, and no offense to the Falcon, the Raptor's packing a lot more guns and shields. It's gotta to balance out somehow."

"Oh yeah, I forgot," Poe said sarcastically, "Junior was a fan of the whole 'Aggressive Negotiations' strategy."

"Hey," she shrugged her shoulders, "at least it works."

"Well," Finn chuckled softly, "at least he wasn't a proponent of the 'Abrahm Jonston' strategy."

"Which is?"

"Bravely running away."

"Hahaha ow ow!" Poe reached for his chest out of reflex, "Don't do that, man. It hurts to laugh. Wait, Jonston? Wasn't that the idiot who damn near got the Imperial Fleet killed over Jakku?"

"Yes," Finn shrugged, "he was Admiral Hux's superior. Well, former superior. I'm not entirely sure what happened to the 'good' Admiral, but some of my superiors suggest that Hux himself executed the man for cowardice and incompetence."

"Heh," Rey just shook her head, "weird. As much as I don't like yellow bellies… I kinda wish things had turned out differently."

"Who's to say," Finn then fixed her a stare, "after all, perhaps it was the will of the Force."

Rey opened her mouth to refute his claim but she just sighed, "Maybe. After all, I was stuck on that planet for a couple of years, and then you show up."

"Oh please," Poe smirked, "it was not the will of Force. It's just the fact you suck at flying!"

"Poe, I hope you realize that there are a lot of loose objects I could throw at you right now."

"Oh, I mean that as a term of endearment!"

"Really?" she asked sarcastically, "How so?"

"Oh y'know, being able to crash in things you have no right to be crashing into. I mean, an asteroid? That's kind of impressive."

"Sure…" and then she threw a series of utensils at Poe, who immediately grabbed a tray and started using it as a shield. Before it could go any further, Finn immediately grabbed a couple of stray water bags used for wound pressure and threw them at the pilot and Jedi.

Poe managed to swing the tray over and the bag just plopped away. Rey however wasn't so lucky. She'd grabbed a fork at the moment and had in just the right position when the bag hit her, ripping open and splashing her in the face. The fact that Rey yelped at the moment of impact and then fell over just add to hilarity

"Damnit, Finn!" she cursed as she climbed back onto the table, wiping water out of her hair, "You got me all wet!"

"Hmm, that sounds kind of provocative gah damnit!" Poe screamed as he was hit in the head by another bag, this time tumbling over onto his knees. Just then, the medical officer walked in.

"What the hell are you buffoons doing in my sick bay!?" he shouted, throwing his arms wide as he did, "Y'know what, out! Out with all of you! And never come back again!"

"Hey, you're not done-" Poe began, but the spectacles wearing man cut him off sharply.

"You're well enough to be throwing pressure bags and forks at each other! Get out! Don't make me get my syringe gun while I'm at it!"

"Doc, I thought that this was against your hypocritic oath."

"It's the Hippocratic oath! Get the cark out!" he then disappeared in the back and returned with the obvious looking syringe gun, loaded with something yellow and viscous, "Or I'm going to give you pain that nobody in the history of pain has been pained with like the pain you will be receiving!"

"...is he a far outsider?" Finn asked, "He seems sadistic enough."

"Um, no. He's worse, let's go!" and Poe was off his table and out the door. Finn and Rey just looked at each other as she pointed out the door.

"Did he just-"

"GO!"

"Alright, we're going!"

"And if you get messed up out there again, I will not be treating you!"

"I'm pretty sure that's illegal!" Rey called back.

"I don't give a damn! Never come back! Celestials, now I have to clean up this mess!"

As soon as the group left, Poe laughed, "Ah the good old Doc."

"He seems like a terrible chief medical officer." Finn pointed out.

"In terms of bedside manner he most definitely is, but in terms of his medical expertise, unless you're a Master Jedi Healer, he has no equal."

"So why is he so belligerent?" Rey asked.

"It's his way of motivating us not to get injured or sick again."

"Ha, I suppose that's fair," Finn chuckled as he eyed the two MP's dress in army blue uniforms down the hall, nonchalantly looking at them.

"Guys," Poe said with a little exasperation, "he's with us. You don't need to tail us everywhere we go."

"Sorry, commander," one of MP's replied curtly, "the commodore's orders were clear. He's not to leave our sight."

"Technically, he already did," Poe gestured to the sick bay.

"You know the Doc's policy: you come into the infirmary without a condition, you just volunteered to be a lab rat."

"Yeah, well the next time you boys go toe-to-toe with a frickin' Sith Rancor, ya let us know."

"What does… Sir, what are you talking about? We had no condition, therefore we couldn't go in."

"Corporal... Henkins? You think too much."

"...never been accused of that before. Look, Sir, we have our orders and if you have a problem with it, take it up with the Old Man."

"No, you say things that have no bearings on the conversation, and maybe I will-"

"Poe," Finn interrupted, "it's alright. Let it go."

Poe sighed but nodded, "Carry on, you mooks."

"We're just doing our jobs, sir."

"Yeah? Well don't do be so damn loud about it," Poe grumbled as he took Rey and Finn by the shoulders, "c'mon, let's get out of this dump."

"I heard that!" the doc yelled.

"You were meant to!" Poe shouted back, "Man, I gotta tell ya, I kinda miss when it was just us doing things by our lonesome."

"Oh, you mean us getting chased and shot at?" Rey smirked.

"Yeah, well that's just half the fun."

"Really?" Finn raised an eyebrow, "Then why do you constantly refer to that whole experience as 'the worst week you've had in a while?'"

"See, that's the thing. You don't know you've had it good until its just taken away like that."

"Ha ha ha!" Rey laughed mockingly, "Well, I don't know about you, but I'll take a good bed and refresher over that flying sandpile, thank you very much."

"Oh, I'm with you there, sister. And after we get to wherever we're going, man I am going on a very long, extended vacation."

"Speaking of which, you never did answer her question," Finn gestured to Rey, "why the changed in rendezvous times?"

"Honestly? I don't know. The original point was just gonna be a random spot in the middle of the New Republic where we'd get a pick up. I guess we're going somewhere else."

It was then that Rey's face suddenly grew a shade paler, her eyes gazing out the plas-window at the hyperspace current slowly coming to an end, "And I think I know where, too."

"Where?" Finn and Poe asked.

" _Commencing emergence in ten,"_ the intercom suddenly blared, and seconds later there was a violent jolt as though the ship had come to a sudden stop. The galaxy ahead appeared in a white flash as things seemed to stretch and pull for a moment before they suddenly rebound back into place.

Before them was a lush green world, a single massive continent pockmarked with a thousand lakes filling the void. Poe could only stare in awe at the world, but Finn wasn't looking at the planet before them. He was watching the subtle tears fall down Rey's cheek as she shakily whispered:

"Home."

* * *

Those were the only words she said the entire trip down to the planet; staring out at the world and yet also nothing in particular. In this moment, she wasn't on the shuttle, tied to a chair that rocked from turbulence. She was there that night, so many years ago, amidst the fires and the screams and an uncaring universe turning its back on its greatest defenders.

Han sat next to her the entire trip, his eyes never leaving her tear stained face. In war, he'd often seen the faces of horror. He'd even seen it briefly on the face of Leia right before he was carbonated on Bespin. But this… this was different. It wasn't just horror he saw on her face, but betrayal so deep it practically marked her soul. In every sense, Han could feel it, too.

His son had been everything to him. When everything else could or had gone so horribly wrong in his life, he could always take solace in having raised his son right. To be a better man than him. But now? He didn't know anymore.

"This is Shuttle Tydirium to Takodana ground control," the pilot said suddenly in her mike, "we're starting our approach. Permission to land, over?"

" _Wedge still has that old shuttle?"_ the ground controller chuckled back, " _Should have been decommissioned decades ago."_

"You do realize that this is the Old Man we're talking about, right? He never throws away a work order ship, regardless of how old it is."

" _Heh, yeah that sounds like him. Transmit your clearance codes, over."_

"Already done, over."

" _Alright, proceed to Temple Landing pad 1. The Boss is waiting."_

"Boss?" Rey suddenly said, her eyes perking up, "You mean-"

"Yeah," Han nodded, "he's still kicking."

"Heh, why am I not surprised? I mean, if Grievous and Vader couldn't kill him, I suppose nothing will."

Finn raised an eyebrow, "Who are you talking about?"

"He's a member of the Jedi Council, and also the Deputy Chief of the Antarian Rangers."

Finn eyes widened slightly, "You mean Jacen Shrike?"

"You've heard of him?"

"Of course," Finn nodded, "he's a high priority target among the Intelligence community, and we were taught that he was one of the heads of the Fulcrum Spy Ring during the War."

"Well," she smiled slightly, "I'm not sure if he'd be flattered or annoyed that our enemies talk about him in their primary schools."

"Rey, for all its faults, the First Order isn't prideful or stupid enough not to admit we lost the last war. It's best to know why we did."

"Why do you keep saying 'we?'" Poe asked, "The Empire and the First Order are entirely different animals. Sure they use the same iconography and symbols, but you didn't technically lose the war, the Empire did."

"Poe, I was taught that the First Order and the Empire are one and the same. That though we are a successor state, improving upon what is lacking, we also carry on the same mission."

"And what is that?"

Finn sighed and closed his eyes, "To restore peace and order to a lawless galaxy… or so they taught me."

No one spoke on the irony. They didn't have to.

A minute later, the shuttle shuddered upon landing, the whine of servos and alarms ringing in their ears as the vessel settled and finally stopped. After another moment, the internal lights turned from red to green, and the external ramp started to fall with the hiss of hydraulics, the Navy personnel unstrapping themselves and beckoning for the others to do the same.

It was then that Rey smelled, among all things, the fragrance of tobacco. It was a strange concoction of bitter and sweet smells of a sort Rey couldn't quite identify immediately. Naturally, it was like burning wood but different somehow. Then she realized It was fruit wood, and upon that realization, she smiled slightly as they stepped down the ramp to meet the welcoming committee.

On either side of the ship's entrance stood a platoon of soldiers of two different sorts. The first, forming an honor guard closest to the ship, were obviously Antarian Rangers. Though these were significantly different in appearance from the desert fighters Poe and Finn had seen on Jakku-what with their black combat armor and brown coats and wide-brim hats-the attitude and posture was the same. In a way, they were almost like Jedi, with an almost spiritual and regal authority about them.

As if picking up on their thoughts, Han whispered at their elbows,"Don't let their lack of laser swords or force abilities fool you boys, they are as much Jedi as any knight."

"I believe it," Finn whispered back, careful not to let his voice carry, "they fought like devils on Jakku. I damn near lost my life a couple of times."

As they advanced further on, the second category of soldiers appeared. Though their identity was obvious from their blue uniforms and white duraplast armor, it was also rather confusing to Finn.

"Republic Army Troopers?" he asked in a low tone, "Here? On a Jedi world?"

"Yeah," Poe nodded, his eyes becoming strangely dim, "and not just any Division, either. Look at their patches."

Finn noticed them immediately. Red diamonds with black outlines and a single numeral one.

"The Fighting First," Finn said with an odd reverence, "1st Infantry."

"You know of them?" Poe asked.

"Of course. Colonel Rex's men. My superiors have always kept a close eye on this particular division, especially considering they seem to be always at the forefront of the New Republic's wars."

"Well, they are the best of the best," Poe shrugged, "though they ain't Rex's anymore. He retired a couple years ago. Colonel Nero took over afterwards."

Finn nodded, studying the men before him. Though they were all wearing fully enclosed helmets, he could still feel them looking at him with the look only veterans could. A strange mixture of grim determination, fatalism and cold experience; plus the addition of non-regulation equipment strapped to their chests was another dead giveaway.

"Never thought I'd be meeting another outfit descendant of the 501st, but I don't understand why they're here. I thought the Jedi and the government's relationship was strained at best. Why are soldiers here?"

"It is," Poe replied distantly, "and they ain't supposed to be here."

Finn turned back to look at Poe, and he was caught off guard by how haunted he looked. "Are you alright?" Finn asked.

Poe just shook his head, "It's just… all of this reminds me of how bad things are getting. These guys are supposed to be on Honsian, doing 'parade duty'."

"Parade duty?" he asked with a measure of disbelief, the idea sounded so alien to the former Stormtrooper, "These men on parade duty?"

"Yeah. Let's just the Division has a tendency of butting heads with pencil pushers."

Finn nodded, but judging by Poe's face, he knew there was something more. Something his friend wasn't telling him. "How do you know all this? For all we know, this could be an official redeployment."

"It's not," Poe grunted.

"How do you know?"

"Because my dad's stationed on Hosnia."

Finn didn't respond to that. Instead he just watched the pilot's eyes suddenly roll to the right, and look over the discipline forms standing at attention. It was clear by the scrutiny in his eyes he was looking for something… or someone. When Poe suddenly stopped and turned to face a stocky man bearing the chevrons of a Command Sergeant Major, Finn finally understood why; especially when he read the man's name tag.

For a long moment, neither said anything. Then the Sergeant Major nodded his head once, performing a sharp salute. Poe returned the gesture, smiling slightly, and Finn noticed Poe was fighting the urge to say something. Instead, he dropped the saltue and spun on his heel, continuing to march on as he did.

"It can wait," Poe whispered softly, "it can wait."

Before Finn could contemplate further, a harsh and reverberating voice cracked with a smirk, "Well well well, if it isn't Miss Little Krayt Dragon. Figured you'd be alive. Someone owes me 500 cred."

"Oh my aching wallet," someone else called.

Standing before them was a man dressed entirely in black, like a villain from an old Corellian western. Indeed, the only color that set him apart was a red bandana wrapped around his neck and parted into the double breasted suit.

Finn studied the man's face carefully, and was surprised slightly by it. Though his face was certainly gaunt and rather severe looking like any man who'd spent too much time in the sun, it was also surprisingly young looking, all things considered.

Finn had seen the only recent photo of the man once, and that had been taken some thirty years prior at the signing of the Galactic Concordance. Jacen Shrike's age was always a mystery to the intelligence community, but in that photo he looked like he was in late forties. Here and now, the man barely looked like he was in his fifties.

Shrike's chilling blue eyes suddenly turned to Finn, narrowing slightly as he the chewed the end of his wroshyr pipe. To say chilling, though, was something of an understatement. Finn practically felt his mind and soul being examined like under a microscope, and he felt the strong urge to look away. He didn't though, determined not to wilt under the man's gaze, and Shrike in turn chuckled very quietly at the expression.

"Master Shrike." Rey said as she bowed her head in his presence, drawing his attention, "it is good to see you alive," she then cracked a sly smile, "and I see you're still dressed like a cowboy."

"Hmm, I'll take that as compliment, missy," he cracked a smile as he pointed his pipe at her, "'specially coming from the dame who wears a skimpy mummy outfit. I think the Tuskans would disapprove of your choice of attire, kiddo."

"As far as they're concerned, so long as you don't show any skin in public, they don't care."

"Really?" he gestured again with his pipe, "You're still showing plenty of skin. Hmm, maybe not as much as a fine Twi'lek troubadour at a good speakeasy, but still skin."

"We're not among the Tuskens anymore, or Tatooine," she then grinned slightly, "and are you describing me or your wife, Master Shrike?"

"Take a guess," he shrugged his head slightly, "she still has the finest voice in the entire verse. Hell, I wager it would turn water into wine… or some other hyperbolic crap like that."

"I believe it. How is she, by the way?"

"Oh, she's caretaking your dad's job on Ruusan. Doing her appearance a favor, if you ask me."

"I see," she nodded simply before she then took the older man in a hug. With a chuckle, he took her in his arms and shot Han a look. Han simply shrugged.

"C'mon, Knight. Hands off the old man, eh? My lungs don't work that well anymore."

"Sorry," she whispered, "I just…" she trailed off at she looked at nothing in particular.

"Thought you were the last one left, hmm?"

She nodded, and he sighed wearily.

"Trust me, kiddo. I know the feeling. Fortunately for us, we weren't dealt quite the bad hand this time around."

"Have you… heard from anyone else?"

He shook his head, "But not for lack of trying. I've been looking, and look where that search has led us, eh?"

"I suppose so," she whispered. He gently took her by her chin and smiled slightly.

"Hey, it's okay. You're alive and you're home. All that matters."

"Thank you, Master Shrike."

He smiled at her before he turned his head to the others, "Alright, where's the gimmick the professor spent three years digging in a desert for and I spent fifty good men guarding?"

Poe nodded to BB-8, who promptly removed a data-disk from his internal drive and handed it to Poe, who in turn handed it to the Chief Ranger. Shrike took it with a reluctance, like he was grabbing a hot piece of metal, and Rey felt a sudden hollowness within the man's heart. He sighed, closing his eyes as he asked the obvious.

"I take it Lor San's dead?" he gripped the metal disk so tightly his leather gloves creased, snorting as he did, "Tionne ain't gonna like this."

"No, neither is the rest of the council, if they're still around of course." Rey nodded.

"Sir," Poe suddenly said, "the disk contains photos of a Star Map, showing uncharted regions Mr. Tekka says leads-"

"To the Star Forge, Commander Dameron? Yeah, I now what the professor was looking for, and I thought he was crazy for doing it, but," he gestured his hands wide with a tired expression, "here we are."

"Care to enlighten the company that doesn't know what you're talking about? Hell, you didn't even say how the man died, Commander," Han said with an angered tone.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we were short on time at that point," Poe replied offpointingly, looking over at Rey who was still pouting off aways.

"And I forgot to mention it, Han. I'm sorry."

"Well, I can't blame you with that whole Terentatek business, and Sydow-" Han suddenly stopped when he noticed Shrike looking at him expectantly. Han shot him an expression Rey couldn't recognize and Shrike just sighed.

"Look, we'll discuss the rest of this later, once you've rest, ate, and let's be honest here, taken a good shower," he then handed the disk off to a subordinate, who nodded and took off running.

"Now," he said, taking a long draw from his pipe, "before all that, there's one last piece of business we need to discuss," he then looked right at Finn, who nodded grimly.

"Me," Finn said, and Shrike nodded.

"Yeah, you. The big bad traitor the Hutts and Zahn's got a 50k bounty to bring your corpse back to the First Order, so they can parade it through the streets or somethin'."

"They wouldn't do that, would they?" Poe asked.

"The Imperials used to do it. I wouldn't be surprised if their successors would want to try and one-up them while they're at it."

"I see," Finn said simply, "what happens now?"

"Until I know the truth of things, you're going in a cell," he then nodded to a pair of Rangers who came up behind the ex-Stormtrooper, "cuff him."

"Hold on a second!" Poe exclaimed as he got between the Rangers and his friend, "Rey and I can both testify to his character."

"Oh, I'm sure you can, but until I can confirm his story, there is a protocol, no exceptions."

"Look, Master Shrike, Commodore Antilles-"

"Has no jurisdiction here, nor do you. This is Jedi business, this is a Jedi planet, and as you recall, we removed our official government standing with you over fifteen years ago. So you don't get a say, Commander Dameron."

"Oh for-" before Poe could get any further, Finn gestured for the man to stop. He stepped forward and held out his hands.

"I would've been surprised if this didn't happen. I will come quietly."

"Good for you. Cuff him, and take him to interrogation room 1. As for the rest of you, do what you need to do. We'll debrief in six hours."


	30. Chapter 25 - A Matter of Fanatics

**Chapter 28 - A Matter of Fanatics**

* * *

 **High Orbit of Vardos**

 ** _Resurgent_ -Class Star Destroyer _Ravager_**

* * *

" _With all due respect, Lieutenant,"_ the hologram projection of a meeting time a few hours past echoed in the office quarters, " _regardless of what Eighty-Seven had done, he was still one of us. Our orders were clear, our objective and RoE were clear. Yet our-"_

" _Admiral,"_ the intercom suddenly interrupted, " _Captain Phasma is here to see you."_

"Send her in," Admiral Hux nodded with a sigh, easing back in his chair as in the distance a series of doors were opened as footsteps approached. There was a sort of desperate, yet determined quality to them, and the Admiral knew what to expect in the coming minutes.

A moment later, the door to his office opened and Captain Phasma entered, her helm held at the waist as her eyes suddenly locked on the holographic recording playing of the Admiral's desk. Yet, she refused to speak her thoughts at its sight, instead stiffing to attention.

"Admiral, I am here as you requested."

"Good. Stand easy and have a seat."

"I would rather stand, sir."

"Captain," Hux gave her a small smile, "you're going to be standing for a long time then. Please, take a seat. Don't make me turn it into an order."

"Aye sir," she sighed, pulling out one of the black chairs and sitting uncomfortably in it.

"You know, I am a bit surprised," Hux suddenly said.

"About what, sir?"

"You're still wearing the armor. I understand wearing it around the good Captain Sydow-"

She scoffed at the description, but Hux ignored it and continued, "But here? Well, I expected you to change into BDU's or something a bit more comfortable."

"Sir," Phasma allowed herself a small smile, "comfort and I are very strange bedfellows. And with all due respect, I feel naked without this armor."

"You certainly have given many years of service, Phasma. Some thirty years of it, in fact."

There was a change in the Admirals tone that made Phasma a little warry. He'd just gone from the professional to something a bit more familial. Hux never did that unless there was a point to be made, and Phasma forced herself to relax and play the game.

"Twenty seven years, five months, and twenty seven days," she corrected with a soft smile, "ever since I left Parnassos to attend the Academy on Tyyrr."

"Ah yes, of course. I suppose I count the extra years for your time helping us tame Parnassos."

"Tame is a bit of a loose term, Ramius. After all, didn't the First Order want my home to remain wild and dangerous?"

"Wild and dangerous, but manageable, Phasma," Hux grinned under his heavy beard, "in many ways, I would even say that describes you."

"Thank you, I suppose. Ramius, if I may be blunt, what is the point of this?"

"Just a curiosity, Phasma. Do you remember what you said to me just before you left for Tyyrr?"

"Which part?"

"The bit about you being the last of your tribe?"

"Yes," she said carefully, "of how I would continue my traditions and give it to the First Order."

"And in doing so, you helped mold us two generations of Stormtrooper. I always found it curious how you chose to make them your tribe rather than the traditional way."

"What, by making little ones?" Phasma smiled wryly, "No disrespect to those who do, but that was never going to be my intention. My Troopers and the First Order," she sighed a little, "and you are my family. My tribe, so to say."

"Not for lack of trying," Hux said, something changing in his face, "Cardinal comes to mind."

Phasma's face suddenly hardened, "What do you mean by that, sir?"

"Not much gets by me, Phasma, you should know this."

"Sir, Cardinal and I were close, yes. But we never-"

"Phasma, the line between merely familial and more is a very fickle thing. I always wondered which side of it the two of you stood by, and there are times it was the latter."

"Nothing ever came of it," she said with tone as tight as a vice, "it would've been inappropriate for us. For many years, Cardinal was my superior."

"Yet you wish it had turned out differently. That he never tried his coup."

"Of course I do, sir. He was my brother in many ways, and I wish…" her voice suddenly trailed off as her eyes stared at the desk, remembering things that she did not want to.

"What? That you hadn't been the one to put him down?"

She said nothing, her face growing a bit looser, and Hux could see she was trying to avoid crying. She breathed in finally, and surprisingly her voice hadn't cracked, "I did my duty, sir, and what was asked of me."

"Yes, you did," Hux nodded as he stood and stared out the window at the planet below, "as you always do, and yet in a way it was serves what you want in the end."

"I don't understand, sir."

"It's very simple, Captain. You've let things grow very personal for you. You've turned your Troopers into family, and your fellow officers even more so."

"Would you have rather me not to, Ramius?" she asked, a little bit of hurt in her voice as she rose to her feet, her impressive height coming to full bare.

"Your method is useful, and helps create cohesion, but it comes with a single debilitating drawback."

"With all due respect, Admiral, I teach the way I was taught. Not just by my tribe, but by you, by those on Tyyrr-"

"And Cardinal," Hux finished her sentence as he turned around and looked up at her, "tell me something, Captain. Do you think he was right?"

The question caused her to stiffened, "As an officer or a friend?"

"We're in my office, Phasma. Of course as a friend."

"Well then, Ramius, I do… and I don't."

"Explain."

She sighed, allowing herself to sit and run one leg over the other, staring at the helmet in her hands. After a moment, she looked up at him again.

"What was the single weakness of the Empire that brought it down in the end, especially at Endor?"

"Palpatine," Hux answered, "Sith or not, no one man can do the work of a million, and as a result, we lost that battle because of his pride."

"Is it any different with Demask, then?"

"Cardinal certainly thought not," the Admiral deflected, "and perhaps his logic was correct, or perhaps not. It's not our duty to ask that."

"Sir, Cardinal was the most loyal out of all of us. Unlike me, he was raised in the Core. He live and breathed the Empire. If a man as loyal as that-"

"Pellaeon was loyal, Vader was loyal, and yet look at both. One abandoned us, the other betrayed us. Words have no meaning, Phasma. Action does, and Cardinal betrayed the First Order and damn near tore us apart in civil war."

"Cardinal was not the only one involved."

"No, Captain, but he was the core of their ideology. He was their symbol, and he is the source of every damn fanatic we've had to deal with thereafter."

"Fanatic?" she spat, "He is no different than me, Admiral. We trained our soldiers to be loyal."

"You trained your men to be loyal to each other, Captain. You taught them to be family. He trained them to be loyal to a destructive ideology. To be loyal to him."

She rose again, barely able to keep her emotions checked, "That is not fair, Admiral. You can call the man traitor, but you dare not question his methodology. It produced me, after all."

"You are an exception rather than the rule," Hux grumbled as he moved back to his desk, "FN-2145 was another product of his training and look where that has taken things."

He then played the recording from the beginning, the sharp and harsh face of Sergeant FN-2007, or Sevens, appeared on the display. His face was colored a slight blue, but it did not hide the intensity of his icy blue eyes or even how his blonde hair seem to glow as the Investigator spoke during the interrogation.

" _We have your helmets telemetry,_ _Sergeant_. _We saw everything that happened in that room."_

" _Then why are we having this discussion, Lieutenant?"_ Sevens asked, his eyes blaring as he did, " _Why this inquiry? You clearly have everything you need, so let me get back to my duties. We are down a platoon commander, after all."_

" _That is entirely why we are here, Sergeant. The question on everyone's mind is why you acted the way you did towards Lieutenant FN-2145."_

" _I think it should be pretty clear why I acted the way I did."_

" _Why don't you inform us, Sergeant. Better yet, answer me this. Did you have an intention of shooting 2145? From your own vitals and telemetry, there is some debate of your intentions."_

The trooper leaned forward, glaring as he did, " _You telling me you can read my mind now, huh? That you can guess what was going through my head at the moment?"_

" _If we could, we would not be having this discussion, now would we?"_

" _With all due respect, Lieutenant, regardless of what Eighty-Seven had done, he was still one of us. Our orders were clear, our objective and RoE were clear. Yet our platoon commander acted like a carking idiot. Like some greenhorn who should have died on Parnassos."_

" _Is that why you readied your weapon? Is that why you switched it from stun to kill in that moment?"_

" _Yes,"_ Sevens growled, " _we have standards in this Corps, Lieutenant. Those standards were drilled into us since we were children. Obedience and discipline being chief among them. L-Tee was neither in that moment. Our orders were to take Eighty-Seven and anybody associated with him alive and without incident."_

" _And L-Tee didn't?"_

" _Do you need to check the recording again?"_ he growled.

" _I want your perspective, sergeant."_

" _Fine, here's my perspective. L-Tee beat Eighty-Seven repeatedly. He threatened to rape a woman. He was prepared to execute both despite our orders. He broke the conducts of good order and discipline just so he could have a little ideological spat and-"_ he broke off then, his face become dangerously red.

" _And?"_

" _You have access to my helmet's telemetry?"_

" _Of course."_

" _I want you to play it up to the point we're talking about."_

A few moments passed and Sevens held up his hand, " _Stop, right there."_

The image was when L-Tee was drawing his sidearm, the helmets camera staring into his face.

" _What am I supposed to see, Sergeant?"_ the investigator asked.

" _I want you to look at his eyes, Lieutenant. What do you see?"_

" _I see a man ready to kill."_

" _Yes. Me. As a platoon sergeant, it is my duty to maintain order and cohesion. To remind my superiors of their duty. For doing that, L-Tee was ready to kill me. Tell me something, Lieutenant. Do you think we need that sort of officer in the Corps, or even in the Guard? A man who would kill his fellows for reminding him of his duty?_ "

The investigator stared at him for a moment, " _You still have yet to answer my question. Would you have shot FN 2145?"_

" _Sir, considering the fact that the man was acting like a raving idiot? That he was going to shoot me and probably others? Well, I'm just glad the Jedi blew him to Chaos so I wouldn't have to."_

" _You would do this for what? To protect a traitor?"_

" _Eighty-Seven may have betrayed us, Lieutenant, but he was still one of us. In fact, I am even inclined to believe that's why our orders were to take him alive."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _Eighty-Seven, even when he was betraying us, never killed anyone of us. He didn't kill that technician team in the elevator, or any of us when we were fighting the Jedi. Hell, he had me in his sights and he just stunned me."_

" _You're right, he didn't kill any of us. The prisoner he helped escape did."_

" _I'm not talking about the pilot, Lieutenant. I'm talking about a brother, a squad leader I led on Parnassos. The man who lost his entire team on Jakku. He may have betrayed us, Lieutenant, but he was still one of us, and I stand by what I did."_

The recording suddenly stopped, focusing on the man's face and the frankness of it.

"I should have been there," Phasma sighed, "on Jakku, and I should have been the one in that interrogation room."

"There was no way you could have stopped the deaths of FN-2187's squad."

"I'm not talking about the battle, Admiral," Phasma replied, "I'm talking about when the platoon tried to capture him. I should have been there."

"And that is exactly why I didn't want you there to begin with," Hux grumbled softly, "why I disagreed with the order to bring him in alive."

"Then why did you issue my order, Admiral?"

"Because I wanted to believe you were right. Because I let my personal feelings get in the way of our mission. FN-2187 should have been dead the moment he entered that room, but instead he lived and is now delivering the droid to our enemy."

"If FN-2145 had obeyed orders, we would not be in this position to begin with."

"That is exactly the problem, Phasma. You gave the order to his platoon. You made this personal."

"Admiral, I am not making excuses for what happened, but I ordered that particular platoon there for exactly that reason. It was **his** platoon. I believed that their presence would have been enough to bring him back."

"And in doing so, your sentimentality has put us in danger. All because you don't want another Cardinal."

Phasma eyes grew as frigid as ice, "You're right, Admiral. I don't. Cardinal was my brother. His troopers were my children. Both died because of his action and our inability to reconcile the conflict before it grew out of hand. That is exactly what is happening here, Admiral."

"Yes, you are correct. Now we have a traitor alive and well that could inspire rebellion rather than a dead traitor who would inspire no one."

"That is an oxymoron, Admiral, and surprising coming from you. A man who fought an army of martyrs."

"Yes," Hux sighed as he slumped into his chair, "martyrs created by acts of tremendous, pointless brutality. Sound familiar?"

Phasma nodded, "History is repeating."

"I will not allow it to, Captain," Hux replied, fire in his eyes, "we've worked too damn hard getting to this point to allow the folly of Tarkin, Palpatine and Vader to undo us again."

Phasma nodded, staring at Sevens' face, "What is to be done with him, then?"

Hux sighed deeply, "Despite being one of Cardinal's troopers, FN-2007 is a loyal and capable soldier. Which is why I am having him promoted to take FN-2145's position as platoon commander."

"Curious, isn't it?" Phasma mused softly, "A capable soldier and a fanatical officer produced under the same teachings of the same man?"

"Or capable soldiers and a traitor under the same woman?" Hux asked with a wry smile, "I suppose the truth is there isn't a point. Perhaps Captain Svar is correct. Perhaps the Grand Army of the Republic was a fluke and can never be recreated."

"Bold words coming from a Deathwatch failure."

"Careful, Captain. Some could say the same of the First Order."

"With all due respect, you are nothing like him, Ramius. When the Empire fell, you helped create a government that has stood the test of time. What has Svar and others like him done? Nothing. That is the difference."

"I'd hardly call thirty years 'the test of time,' Captain."

"It's better than the few minutes Pre Vizsla had. Hell, it's even better than the twenty four years Palpatine had. I have more respect for what Fenn Shysa, Sabine Wren and Bo-Katan Kryze managed to achieve, and they are our enemies."

"I would be careful to not mention such things in the presence of the White Wolf," Hux smiled earnestly.

"Oh come now, Ramius. We both know I can take him." Phasma grinned with a cockiness that looked alien to her.

"With or without that vibro-axe of his?"

Phasma grin deepened as her hands felt for the hilt of her sword, "Both. Maybe with that jetpack of his, he might have a chance… by flying away."

"Arrogance is unbecoming, Captain," Hux chuckled, "though I suppose the difference is when you know you are correct."

"Of course, sir," she laughed before she sighed a moment, "sir, if I may ask, why am I going with," she bit her lip and forced herself to say the name, "Sydow? All things considered?"

"Why do you hate the man so much?"

"He's a pirate, sir," Phasma growled, "I don't care if he works for us, he's still one. His loyalty lies entirely with whoever has the most money, not with the cause they have."

"I suppose so," Hux nodded, "to answer your question, Captain, it's very simple. Despite this catastrophe, you are still one of the few people I trust to get this done."

"What about Lord Kylo?"

"He has his own agenda, Phasma. We both know this. While the Lords of Ren may not command this military, we do not command them, either. I need you to be my eyes on this matter, Phasma, and to complete this mission if Ren is incapable of doing so."

"That… that is dangerous talk, Admiral."

"We live in dangerous times, Phasma. And in a way, Cardinal was right about one thing."

"Which is?"

"The fate of the Empire Reborn belongs to us, not the Sith."

"I understand, sir," Phasma nodded, "and I will do my duty."

"There is one other thing, Captain. No doubt wherever the droid is, FN-2187 will be as well, and no doubt your paths will cross."

"What would you have me do, sir?" Phasma asked, dreading the answer.

"Kill him," Hux replied, his eyes boring into hers, "do not try to bring him back. Do not try to convince him back to our side. He made his choice, and now he must suffer the consequences. Otherwise, we just incentivize others to follow in his wake."

Phasma sighed, closing her eyes as she nodded numbly, "Yes sir."

"Then you are dismissed," the Admiral said, the Captain rising to her feet and marching out the door. Hux watched her go, shaking his head as he did.

"I've already lost one child to fanatics," he said to no one in particular, "don't take another from me."


	31. Intermission 4 - Shadows of the Past

**Chapter 29 - Shadows of the Past**

* * *

 **Takodana**

 **Ruins of the Jedi Temple**

* * *

"Is he always like that?"

Rey didn't bother turning, instead keeping her eyes on the courtyard of marble and cobblestone as she leaned over the stone bannister, her elbows supporting her as she looked over the nostalgic inducing scenery, "Is who always like that?" she asked distracted.

"Oh c'mon, don't give me that," he grumbled.

"Poe, he's just doing his job. Master Shrike's been in this business a very long time. He treats every defectee like that."

"And you couldn't have vouched for him?" Poe asked her in disbelief, "I mean, you're frickin' Jedi. He even knows you. Why is that not enough?"

"He wouldn't have cared," she sighed, turning around to face him, "he wouldn't have cared even if Master Luke himself had vouched for him. He still would have-"

"Thrown Finn in a cell like an animal?" Poe shook his head, "After everything he did?"

"That's not fair, Poe. Look, I'm not saying I like it, but I can understand the reasoning behind it. He has to be vetted. Hell, even the New Republic does this. It's just sometimes they're lax about the rules."

"You mean they'd actually take the word of a Commander in the New Republic Navy into consideration instead of just blatantly ignoring it?"

"Poe, this isn't a New Republic base, and like it or not, the New Republic has a long history of making slip-ups. The way Shrike sees it, we can't afford that anymore."

"I suppose that's fair," Poe sighed, "I still don't like this."

"Because you made that promise back on Jakku?"

"Just like you did on the Raptor. Look, Finn turned his back on everything he knew to save me and you. The Corsairs all but confirmed that he has a bounty now. Can't that be enough?"

"Shrike would just say, 'That's a great cover.'"

"Is he always so paranoid?" Poe snorted, leaning against the stone pillar with his arms crossed so he wouldn't do anything stupid with them.

"Yes, and it's well justified," she gestured to the temple all around them, "this is what happens when you're not."

Poe sighed, staring at the tiled floor, "I just… I want to give Finn a life that ain't **this**. Being stuck in a damn cell, being poked and prodded. I mean, the guy has such a narrow view of things and I want to shake him from that. Show him the galaxy and what it really is, not what some hardass ex-Imperials made him believe it is."

"It won't come to that," she soothed, placing a reaffirming hand on his shoulder, "Shrike will only try to get his side of things… and maybe whatever intelligence he can provide. Besides I think Finn understands that. I mean, he defected. He knew what he was in for."

"I agree, I just want him to see it for himself," he shook his head before chuckling as he looked all around him, "so, this is the fabled High Jedi Temple, huh?"

"What's left of it anyway."

"Y'know, I'll admit I'd always wanted to kind of stumble upon this place by accident."

"Accident, huh?" she grinned, "So desperate to become a Jedi you'd risk getting thrown in a cell and poked and prodded like an animal, hmm?"

"Oh you're hilarious. But seriously, I always heard stories about this place, and I wanted to see it for myself. But I never imagine it'd look so old."

"Well, it was bombed to hell-"

"That's not what I mean," Poe deadpanned, "I mean, look at this place. It almost looks older than the Temple on Yavin."

"That's because it is," Rey replied with a shrug, "by about twenty thousand years, give or take."

Poe turned to her, his eyebrows raised in surprise, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, apparently this was built around the same time as the Temple on Ossus."

"Ossus?" Poe asked again his tone bewildered, "Isn't that the first Jedi Temple after the Jedi left their home planet, Tython?"

"Hence why this place is so mysterious. Where did it come from? Who built this place, and where did they go?"

"Wait, you guys don't know all this?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "Poe, all we really know is what Lor San found in the old records and even that was by accident."

"What do you mean accident?"

"I mean he found a single crumbled old page written in an aurabesh dialect so old he almost couldn't translate it, buried quite literally in the back of the Old Jedi Records on Coruscant, and all that had was just a passing mention of this place and the general area that it was in."

"Talk about a needle in a haystack. What a second, you're telling me the Jedi literally lost track of a temple as old as Ossus?"

"Not surprising, considering Jocasta Nu didn't even notice Kamino had been deleted from the records by Dooku, who wasn't even a member of the Order anymore at the time."

"Who's Jocasta Nu?" Poe asked.

"She was a Jedi master and keeper of the records. An incredibly pompous and arrogant one, too. Lor San's words, not mine. Stars, he promised to personally smack anyone with his lightsaber if any of us turned out like her."

"Man, what did this lady do that provoked that kind of anger outta the guy?"

"She said that the Jedi Order knew everything and that there was nothing left to discover."

"Oh. That'll do it."

"Yeah. And you know what's weirder? There's a Force Nexus here."

"Hold on, what? You mean one of those places where the Force is the strongest?"

"Well, sort of," she held out her hands on top of each other, "okay, imagine my bottom hand is us, right now. And this top hand is the Force, well, more like the Netherworld really, but still," she began to move her top hand around, "everywhere, the barrier between the two planes of existence is always normal. Nothing much bleeds through. But this place? Well, it's like someone thinned the layer and let it seep in. That's why the Force is so strong in this place."

"Okay, lemme get this straight. The Jedi of Old literally forgot the place where the Immaterium leaks into the real world, which was apparently built around the same time as their second oldest temple, for literally twenty thousand years?"

"Perhaps something bad went down and they were forced to abandon it. It could even have something to do with the Netherworld.I mean, we really have no idea what exists out there or if it's friendly. Maybe they wanted to leave this place be and let the Barrier rebuild."

"What could be so wrong with Heaven?"

"Well, if there is a Heaven...?"

"Then there's a Hell," Poe nodded, "should we be here, then?"

"Relax. I've spent the better part of half of my life here. Some of the ghosts are actually pretty nice."

Poe's jaw dropped at that one, "Ghosts?"

"Yes, they exist. Granted, it seems only those with a strong connection to the Force, either physical or spiritual, can see them."

"Damn," Poe shook his head, "there was an old flight buddy of mine. Wanted to ask him what he did with the twenty credits I loaned him."

Rey laughed at that, "Ghosts don't work like that. They have minds of their own and tend to come here at random, or by will of the Force. It's unlikely that your buddy would be here at this point in time."

"Yeah," Poe said quietly, his eyes staring blankly at the floor, "I was hoping I could actually talk to someone else here, too."

"Your mother," Rey stated more than asked.

"Yeah, I mean, what are the odds? My dad, who I haven't talked to in months, just happens to be here, on a planet where my mom's ghost might be. Talk about reunion."

"Well, you just might see here," she smiled, "if you do, listen to what she has to say. Might well be important."

"Yeah, maybe." Poe sighed, then a thought hit him, "Hey, why didn't you open this place up to the public? Would be great for people to get closure."

"One, we like our privacy. Two, Shrike's workload would be enormous, and he has a life. Three, this is a spiritual place. Would you really want people to come here willy nilly like you would a bar?"

"I doubt the ghosts would. So, have you gone looking, too?"

"For my father, you mean?" she asked sadly, slumping her head as she did, "I did. I sat in the woods for hours before we were called back for questioning, waiting for… something," she bit her lip, "but nothing came."

"This could mean he's still alive," Poe offered hopefully.

"Or maybe he just doesn't want to talk to me," she replied in a hollow tone.

"What? You're his kid. Why wouldn't he want to talk to you?"

"Because I ran," she cursed so softly he almost didn't hear, "because I ran and I should've died here with him."

"Rey, I highly doubt that's going to matter to him. If anything he might be glad you're safe and sound, alive and well. Also, the Rangers said some of the Jedi got out. Hell, you yourself said that K'Kruhk and Shaak Ti got out."

"But why wait this long?" she asked with a hoarse whisper, her face becoming gaunt with grief, "If they are alive and well, why haven't they come back?"

"Dunno. Neither does Shrike, apparently. But if my folks taught me anything, it's to have faith. Besides, things tend to turn out for the best in the end."

Rey grinned at him, "Are you sure you're not a Jedi, flyboy?"

"Nope," Poe grinned back, "besides, if I was, do you think I'd be flying for the Navy?"

"No, I suppose not."

"You know what it probably is? If your dad really is gone, he's probably shocked. you managed to fly all the way to Jakku without hitting anything, and he's figuring out how to congratulate you on your progress."

"Oh shut up!" she laughed, socking him in the shoulder.

"Hey, it's true! Also, if he is a Jedi, then it shouldn't matter where he is. He could appear to you at anytime."

"I thought you didn't believe ghosts exist?"

"I never said that, I just have never seen one. Besides, I believe in an afterlife. I kind of have to believe in ghosts. Plus, who hasn't heard of Jedi coming back as ghosts?"

"True, I suppose," she said simply, continuing to stare out at the courtyard ahead.

"Rey," Poe said, coming up next to her, "what exactly happened here?"

Rey didn't answer. Instead, her face just seemed to grow paler as she slumped further onto the bannister.

"Rey-"

"Commander Dameron," a Ranger suddenly appeared behind them, "Boss wants to talk to you."

"Again? We just got out of interrogation-"

"Now, sir."

"Okay, I'm coming. Rey, are you-?"

"I'm fine, Poe. I'll be along soon. I just… need to think."

Poe nodded, and went his way. Rey remain posed over the bannister, her eyes observing the very distinct details that made up the coarse, white sand of the courtyard. She smiled softly at the sight of years dried dark blood staining it every now and then. For a moment, she had the temptation to slip into some nostalgic daydream of a childhood long past, but she thought better of it.

She'd turned away from the courtyard and was about to make her way back to the conference room when she heard a familiar voice belonging to a boy behind her back, sounding distant like an echo, "Oh hey, Tahiri! H-how are you? I mean I haven't seen you in months!"

Rey's eyes widened and she spun around, "Ben?"

She'd expected to see nothing. Instead, what she did see was an almost transparent tapestry of the past play out in front of her amidst the moss covered stonework. There were children everywhere of every creed, race and age imaginable; wacking each other with training sabers with little impromptu duels more playful than serious.

In the center of the merriment was a pair of children both about ten years old. One was a young blonde girl, standing barefoot and looking like she'd just stumbled into something awful. The other was a redhead boy whose eager yet awkward face brought a smile to Rey's.

"Uh oh," her smile widened, "someone's been lovestruck."

"So, uh, T-Tahiri," Ben stuttered, rubbing his hand across the back of his head, "I see you're… well, um-"

"What are you gawking at, twerp?" Tahiri snorted before she suddenly socked him in the stomach. He doubled over, holding his stomach and lunch in as he grinned like a love-sick puppy at her.

"Wow, you're strong!"

"You're hopeless, Ben Skywalker," the girl snorted, and Rey couldn't help but laugh.

"You two really were made for each other. Wait a second, why am I seeing this?"

"Hey! Why the hell did you just hit my cousin, you jerk?" an older, dark haired boy came up, towering over Tahiri as he looked over at the redhead, "you okay, Ben?"

"C'mon, Cale! Back out of this! I'm making progress here!"

"Progress? Pfff," Cale smirked as he put his hands on his hips, "you wouldn't know progress if it hit you in the-"

"Cale, look out behind you!"

"Huh?" and Rey burst out laughing as a saber suddenly whacked him over the head and he went down like an overly dramatic sack of panga fruit. Rey's eyes widened at the sight of the girl, with her braid of chestnut brown hair, hazel eyes and…

"Freckles? I don't remember having freckles. Wait… why am I viewing it from this perspective? Oh right, someone was standing here, but who though?" she shook her head, "I will never fully understand this temple."

"What the hell, Rey?" Cale shouted as he jumped back to his feet, glaring deep into her face. She shot him a winning smile as she shrugged her shoulders.

"You weren't paying attention, string-bean, so I whacked you. Just like I'm gonna whack-" she swung her saber so fast it almost didn't seem like it moved at all. There was a loud _thwang_ as the saber bounced off another saber, and Cale grinned down at her.

"I'm paying attention now, slowpoke," and he went out thawking away at Rey's guard, who started dancing around like a lithe dervish. That was until he finally tripped her up and she fell to the sand. Before he could make the move to 'finish' her, another saber appeared from nowhere and a red Twi'lek girl threw his blade back with a childish growl.

"Don't even think about it, pink skin," the girl said as she pulled Rey to her feet, "or I'll redecorate that pretty face of yours."

"Oh stay out of this, Kali," Cale snorted, "me and Rey have a long score that needs settling. Wait a second, did you just say I'm pretty?"

"Of course she does, you big adorable goofball," the younger Rey grinned, "and Kali? Please do stay out of this. We were making-"

"Progress?" another, much older voice said endearingly from the shadows and Rey's heart suddenly jumped.

"Dad," she whispered as a tall man sporting a beard towered over ever one present, bearing a smile that only happy fathers could as he grinned wolfishly down at Cale.

"And just what progress is that, Cale Solo? Hmm?"

"Uh… progress on our lightsaber skills, Sir." Cale said, sweating bolts, "yessir, lightsaber progress. Um… yeah."

"Um, dad?" the younger Rey said with a face like a cordial apple, "W-what he means to say is-"

"Oh, I heard him loud and clear, kiddo," her father's smile broadened, "and I'm embarrassed at you, little one. Cale over there tripped you up like a rank amatuer. Did A'Sharad not teach you anything on Tatooine?'

"Um…"

"Oh kriff it!" Cale admitted, "progress in the way my dad had with mom!"

The battle master couldn't help but chuckle at the young man, "I like your honesty and gusto, kiddo," he said, "but know this, you do anything with my daughter, I will put you through one of my more... rigorous, training regimens until you wish you were dead. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," he said sheepishly.

"Also, language," and an invisible hand slapped him across the scalp, and the older Rey couldn't help but burst out laughing at the image.

"Oh come on, dad! Why were you so mean to him? Oh, that's right," she rolled her eyes playful, "'he's a Solo. Scoundrel runs in his veins. Gotta be taught a lesson, yada yada.'"

Her father turned quite suddenly then, staring right at her. Rey's breath was caught in her throat and she took an instinctual step back, her eyes waiting expectantly for what would come. It never did however, and instead he just smiled to all around with his arms spread.

"Children," he said, drawing the hilt of his saber, "goofing around with your sabers is all good and fun, believe me I did it when I got mine. But life is not quite so easy, lemme tell you. Now, show me what you have-"

"INCOMING!" a sudden scream tore across Rey's mind as she dropped to a knee in its direction, her mind becoming focused to a sudden realization of danger. In that moment, day turned to night, and night turned to chaos as flashes of fire filled the air. Everything smelled like cordite and fear.

She turned to see a sky on fire as thousands of ships danced a lethal walts of blaster bolts illuminating the night and filling it with an endless, deafening whine. Suddenly, she felt herself being enveloped by a panicking crowd, screaming and cursing as she was swallowed in the madness.

"Wait-" she tried to scream, but she sank to the bottom of the onrushing feet, the weight sure to crush her beneath their damnable weight.

"This planet is ours, Jed'dai!" a voice like thunder ripped across the air as a Jedi wearing the garbs of a Knight was sent hurtling into a wall amidst a torrent of blinding red electricity. The crowds dispersed, running for their lives down the hall as a figure appeared in the doorway. Then a weapon was drawn, and the illumination of a sheen as red as blood filled the air with a dull hum.

"That's not a lightsaber," Rey noted as she rose to her feet, studying what she quickly deduced to be a vibro-sword, and even odder, an Aquillan Spathic blade at that. Before she could make a further deduction, the familiar sound of a lightsaber igniting drew all eyes to the end of the hall as its owner growled with a grim confidence.

"Guess again, you Sith wannabe."

"Dad," Rey gasped.

"Finally," the Sith said with satisfaction heavy in his voice, "a Jed'dai worth killing."

"Come on, then," and the Battle Master threw himself at the Sith, his blade crashing into his, "time to meet your maker."

"You first, Jed-dai. You can save me a seat in Elysia."

The Aquillan moved like grease lightning, but her father was even faster. As the Aquillan threw away the man's guard, he was blown away by a Force Push like a gunslinger quick drawing. He went head over heels out the entrance, but before her father could pursue, a half dozen scarlet blades ignited down the hall.

"Dad, run," Rey said, though she knew it was pointless. He would never run, and with a smile he spun to face his opponents, his sapphire blade held with the confidence found only in veteran warriors. The enemy came, and he battled them with a fierce and fiery determination. Yet, there were six of them, and though they lagged greatly in their skill compared to the Battle Master, their numbers still counted.

Fortunately, he would not have to fight them alone. A silver blade appeared like an angel of death, decapitating one of the attackers as the two Jedi went back to back.

"Corran!" her father shouted, deflecting and stabbing an attacker as he did, "The south entrance-"

"Overrun!" Corran shouted back as he handily cleaved away an enemy's fighting hand, "The Sun Guard have dug in there!"

"Sun Guard?" Rey asked in disbelief. "How can that be? Those Sith wannabes were betrayed by Sidious and Dooku at the end of the Clone Wars. What are they doing here?"

"Find Ti and K'Kruhk!" her father shouted, interrupting her thoughts, "Get the kids to the hidden passages! Get them off planet!"

"But what about you!?" Corran shouted, suddenly whipping his blade around and swiftly dispatched another of the shadowed attackers coming up behind him.

"Kanan, Kyp and I will hold them off as long as we can! Now get the hell out of here!"

"Why? So that you can run away and hide again like the cowards you are?" the voice asked in the gloom before the Battle Master was sent flying back into a wall and into another corridor. Rey got up to her feet and ran, desperation fueling her flight as she barrelled through a shifting reality turning to darkness and light all around her.

She rounded the corner, and there he was: her father in the fight of his life against a man wearing a silver suit of armor, a mane of purple and back hair sprouting from his helm as his violet cape danced in the air. He became almost elemental in that moment, like rage and malice given form as his blade whistled its death note.

For a handful of moments, Jedi and Sith fought, their movements incomprehensible blurs that not even Rey with all her enhanced senses could fully discern. She remained rooted to the spot, staring with jaw agape as her heart pounded like an engine. A second passed, and then another before quite suddenly the combat climaxed into holding action, her father's saber pressed against the Force-imbued blade.

With a ragged and tired smile, her father chuckled softly, "We'll soon see which of us is the coward here, tinman."

With this he heaved with all his might and threw the Aquilian back several paces, his off hand held in the air as lightning began to crackle from his fingertips. The air turned to ozone when with a mighty roar, her father threw the bolt of blinding white electricity at his attacker. Then, with the crack of thunder, the lightning struck home, but not against flesh and metal.

From his own fingertips had emerged lightning crimson as a blood moon, the current crashing into the opposing force as the two combatants dueled with the elements. "Impressive," the Sith chuckled, "but not very Jed'dai of you. Are you sure you're fighting for the right side, 'Battle Master?'"

"Are you?" her father grinned as he poured all of his will and power into his attack, the Sith across from him following suit in equal measure. The ball of contact grew and grew as more power fed it, becoming unstable with each passing second as the crackles of white and scarlet torched all it contacted. Yet, neither man seemed to notice, only focused on killing the other.

Rey raised a desperate hand, shouting in fear, "Dad, no!"

Then the room exploded and she was thrown to the ground, her eyes blinded by the illumination. When she recovered, the echoes were gone. She took in a deep shuddering breath, pushing herself off of the cold stone floor as she came to realize where she was. The hallway had been melted into fine sheen glass, and Rey collapsed to her knees at the sight of it.

"So," she said in a haunted voice, tears streaming down her cheeks as she shook her head bitterly, "this is what you wanted to show me?" she curled her hands into fists as she spat, "Why?"

There were footsteps behind her. She expected to hear Poe or Han or one of the Rangers call to her, ask her what she was doing. Instead, there was a silence and the air grew frigidly cold. She turned very slowly, and saw there a tall hooded figure standing in the doorway.

"Who are you?" she asked, but the figure didn't speak and in a moment he took off at a desperate run. Rey immediately sprang to her feet, but by the time she got to the threshold, he was gone. Then his footfalls began to echo through halls of cobblestone, prompting her to follow the sound until she came upon a security room.

"No," she gasped, attempting to turn away but some invisible kept her rooted to the ground. The wail of the dead and dying filled her ears, Rey clamping her hands to them as she fell to the floor and screamed, "No! NO!"

The Temple however did not listen, and in a moment she found herself in the room. The emergency lights painted it a dull red flickering back and forth with with the darkness. All around her were bodies of dead Rangers and Jedi, and she was about to cry in anguish when she saw one of them stir. Righting herself and forcing her mind to focus, she felt life still beating in each of them.

"I don't understand," she shook her head, "why are you showing me this?"

"What have I done?"

She turned around, and she found the man she'd grown to love sitting there at the security terminal. Tears were streaming down his face as he studied the footage on the screens, his face becoming a hollow mask of grief and self-directed rage.

"Cale," Rey whispered as she rose carefully to her feet, "why did you do this? Why?"

She came around behind him, peering over his shoulder at what he was looking at, and doing so made her heart sink even further. The Jedi and the people they'd come to call family were dying, all because of this single act of betrayal, and Rey could feel every ounce of it crushing Cale's soul. He closed his eyes, letting out a shuddering breath as he tried to tune it out but couldn't; his hands gripping the arms of the chair so tightly his fingers dug into the metal.

Rey let out a gasp as a sudden sting struck her side, and the sound of blaster fire rang from the terminal. Her eyes went wide, and she felt Cale's doing the same as Rey herself came into view one of the monitors, running with sheer desperation.

"I remember now," Rey nodded, "they'd found me. I was trying to find dad, and they started chasing me. They," she felt her side were the scar was, "shot me."

Soon enough, men in black came into view, and on another screen, a small cadre of children flanked by the battered and wearied Corran Horn, Shaak Ti and K'Kruhk were likewise being pursued and cornered in a dead end of powerless doors.

"No!" Cale growled, rage as hot as a forge exploding from him as he slammed his fist into the table, leaving a dent, "Not them. Not her!"

He began to press the buttons on the console, and the power sprang back to life. Cale then shot his hand up to his ear, like as though he had a comlink there, and he suddenly snarled, "No, Praetor. I agreed to let you in. I didn't agree to let you butcher them. Besides, our work is done. The Jedi won't be able to stop what's coming."

He then deactivated the comlink and sat back in his chair as Jedi all around were finally able to start making their retreat. He sighed deeply, turning his body gaunt and almost skeletal in appearance, all the color drained from his cheeks as he shook his head, "I'm damned either way. But at least," he choked on the words and he forced himself to say it, "at least she… they'll, make it out alive."

Rey's hands clenched into fists, her knuckles turning white and blood seeped through her fingers. "You **idiot**!" she screamed at him, " **I** was the only reason you turned back on the power!? My father might be dead because of you, you… you idiot!"

She threw herself at him, hoping to tackle him out of the chair and… what? She didn't know what she would do, but she didn't care. Yet when her fingers touched the briefest strands of his dark hair, he was gone. She fell to her knees in an uncaring void without sound or reason, and all she could do was weep.

"Why?" she cried to the void, "Why?"

"Rey?"

Her eyes snapped open. She hadn't moved from the bannister, and looking up at the sky, she realized it was evening.

"Hey," Poe's hands took her by the shoulders, "are you okay? The Rangers told me you've been standing here for hours."

"Hours?" she mused, "I… I'll never understand this temple."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," she sighed, "has Finn been questioned yet?"

"No, they're just about to. It's why I came to get you."

"Okay," she nodded, wiping away her tears with her sleeve, "then let's get going then."


	32. Chapter 26 - Who do you care about?

**Chapter 30 - "Who do you care about?"**

* * *

 **Takodana**

 **Ruins of the Jedi Temple**

* * *

In all his years, Finn never felt so exposed, so naked than he did under the scrutinizing eyes of the Commandant of the Antarian Rangers. That in itself was something of a contradiction, he realized, considering how he was raised.

"Why do you say that?" Shrike asked quite suddenly, drawing Finn's eyes from the table which conveniently had a bloody imprint in it.

"What do you mean?" Finn asked, and Shrike shrugged, taking another puff of his pipe as he leaned back in his chair.

"I mean exactly that. You feel uncomfortable, exposed. And yet you also feel conflicted about it. Why?"

Finn's eyes widened before they narrowed again, "Did just you read my thoughts?"

"Not quite, but you also haven't been exactly quiet with your emotions this past hour now."

"Interesting," Finn mused as he sat back in his chair, staring into the man's eyes, "I thought you weren't a Jedi."

"Well," the man smirked, pulling out his pipe to gesture with it, "that really depends on your definition of a Jedi, don't it now?"

"I don't understand."

"Tell me, Finn, what do you think a Jedi is? If you had to put it in words?"

"Men and women with swords made of plasma, who have psionic powers." Finn answered simply.

"Oh, so you think anybody swings a neon stick and can move things with their mind qualifies, eh?"

"No, if I thought that, the Knights of Ren would be Jedi."

Shrike smiled and pointed at him with his pipe, "Good point. Tell me something, do you think Lor San Tekka, the man you and your buddies were sent to find, would qualify as a Jedi?"

Finn tilted his head with a shrug, "Considering he took out a few of my company, I was a bit surprised."

"Well, would it surprise you that the man held the rank of Master and had a seat on our Council? That a man, with no supernatural powers or destiny or any of that other crap, can sit at the same table with folks that some other folks consider Gods… and be considered an equal?"

"You're saying it's about the philosophy, the mindset, not the power that they wield?"

"Well, ain't you smart? Let me explain this little concept very simply. To say that any person who has powers is a Jedi by definition, by right, is the same as saying that a five year old who was born to nobility is fit to be the ruler of a world."

"An apt description. Would be humorous to see such a thing."

"Actually, we have. Her name was Padme Amidala. No disrespect to the woman or what she managed to achieve, but what genius came up with the idea of putting a 14 year old in charge of a planet?"

"Well, if history is to be believed, it was because of Palpatine."

"Uh huh," Shrike nodded, taking another puff of his pipe, "that's why semantics is actually important. It's why having clear definitions of things is important, and having explanation as to why they are what they are doubly-so."

"Explain the Jedi, then."

"Oh, it's very simple. If 1% of a population has the ability to tear a ship out of the sky with their hand, or," he tapped the side of his head with his pipe, "be able to read someone's mind when their guard is down, then you are going to have two exact possibilities of what that 1% will do."

"And they are?"

"The exact same choices everyone is dealt with. To be a samaritan or a jackass. Only difference is that now you have powers. The question then becomes how do you convince people not be a jackass?"

"You create a morality system; a unifying belief to uphold."

"No different than society as a whole. Y'know, that's actually the major difference between the Jedi and the Sith right there. It ain't really about the spectrum of the Force and all that, but instead the fact that the Sith don't believe in restraint. Don't believe that Billy-bob and Jaina-Joe are worth protecting or leaving alone; that their interests are the only things that matter. That they are above it all."

"So you're saying that the Sith are Social-Phylogeneticists?"

"Heh, that's a good way of putting it. Where'd you hear that term?"

"Parnassos," Finn shrugged, "Phasma once described the planet's tribes that way."

"Hmm, interesting," Shrike mused softly, "and so that's ultimately the point. The Jedi themselves use their power for good."

"Good? As in society itself?"

"No. Society is a malleable term, you can have any kind of society. Including the one on Parnassos. No, what the Jedi are dedicated to protecting are people in general. Billy-Bob and Jaina-Joe, the common man, doing common things. Don't matter what they're doing for a living, just so long as they ain't a jacksie, and are respectful of their fellow man."

"So… protect the common good?"

"No. Common Good and Greater Good have been the excuses for plenty of a genocidal, tyrannical jacksies. Take Palpatine for example. He said the Jedi are threatening the 'Greater Good,' and therefore must die. As I said, the Jedi protect the individual, not the collective. Because let's be perfectly honest, the collective has tried to murder us a couple dozen times now."

"I suppose so. How does that relate to Lor San Tekka?"

"Well," he leaned over the table, "Lor San was a teacher, an historian… even a philosopher. Believe me, he's practically the only one who could stand talking shop and morality and crap with me without ripping their hair out. He uh, kind of enjoyed it, actually. Said it was stimulating."

Finn let out a small chuckle, "I would have like to have listened to his lectures."

"I have recorded all of them. You're welcome to them if you like."

Finn nodded, "So he was a teacher?"

"Yes. He once said that knowledge was perhaps the most powerful tool ever created. That knowledge and the correct application of it could cure society of all its woes. I'm not sure about that last bit, but it's admirable regardless."

"Why do you say that?"

"Some people just prefer bliss. I mean, gotta control your own world, and the best way to do that is to make it as small as possible. But not Lor San. He found comfort in the knowledge of this very big, objective universe, and taught that to people. Taught them to think instead of hamfisting everything. So, he may not have had a neon stick or powers, but he had wisdom and the drive to change people for the better."

He took another puff of his pipe, smiling a little, "That, Finn, is what a Jedi is."

"What about you, though? Rey called you Master."

"Oh, I'm here for the opposite reason. I'm a realist and a pain in the ass. See, Lor San believed that people can and would do great good if you gave them the chance. I believe that people are just as bound to do ill and bad as they are to do good. In short, while Lor San promotes peace, I prepare for war. Well, until he succeeds and I'm no longer needed, but when do you see that happening anytime soon?"

"Fair. But you have the Force."

"Like I said, it ain't got nothing to do with it. Besides, I'm a weak connection. I only know tricks. Nothing concrete to build from, but that ain't what makes me, well, **me**. Same as Lor San, hell, more so in his case, actually."

"You were friends, weren't you? The way you keep talking about him, I mean."

"We were. He reminded me of my stupid twin. Mr. Hopeful with an insufferable smile. Granted, the difference was that Lor San could argue the point. Abe would just solve it with a stick."

Finn sat their pondering, his eyes grim, "Small comfort but perhaps Kylo Ren did the man a favor… killing him. The First Order would've tore him apart, trying to find out where, well, **you** went."

"And I wager your High Marshal, Mr. I-have-no-past-to-speak-of-beyond-conjecture, would've done worse?"

Finn didn't answer, but just shrugged. Shrike just leaned back in his chair, sighing in the fact he was about to slam his head into the proverbial wall again.

"What do you know about Hego Damask, Finn?"

"All I really know is that he apparently died shortly after the Naboo Crisis."

Shrike scoffed and shook his head, "And here we go again. Finn, I get it. You don't wanna give me anything beyond the hour long explanation that you grew a convenient conscience because even though you're sitting here, you're still trying to protect your family. Right?"

"How do you feel about the Jedi?"

"That they don't kill people willy-nilly? That they ain't out to put me down because I saw something I shouldn't have?"

Finn's eyes narrowed, "Remove the subject matter, how do you feel about the Jedi?"

"I see them as my family," Shrike answered neutrally, "the difference is, kiddo, they ain't out to start a war."

Finn looked to the side before looking back, "You don't know them like I do. There are some good men and women there. They are just soldiers, following orders."

"I know, and in a perfect world, I would give them the chance, but this ain't a perfect world. They will do what they can to kill us, and you, specifically. Like it or not, you are a traitor, and they will kill you if they are asked to do so."

"Then I shall die," Finn answered, his eyes darting to the table and the dent there, with its little speckle of blood, "for even if you throw me into a hole, I will not give you information that will lead to the death of my brothers and sisters. I can't."

Shrike gave Finn a look, as though he were searching him for something. Finn thought for a moment that he felt something off, like some foreign presence in his mind. But when he looked, it wasn't there.

"Don't worry, kiddo," Shrike suddenly said, catching his attention, "I'm not going to peak behind there. I could, with the right amount of pressure, but I don't want to."

"Why?" Finn asked, "You've probably done it before."

"I have, but this is different. You are different. Maybe it's a little bit of Lor San rubbing off on me, but I have a little bit hope for you."

"What hope?"

"Well, the fact you are a walking, talking contradiction. I mean, here you are, protecting the people you just betrayed by saving the life of not just an enemy pilot, but a Jedi Knight. You're also smart, observant, which is leading me to a bit of a conclusion that I just a need a few more pieces before it becomes clear."

"And what conclusion is that?"

Shrike didn't answer him, instead just staring at him for a long moment as he continued to smoke his pipe. Then he asked a question Finn didn't quite know how to answer, "Who do you care about, Finn?"

"I don't follow."

"It's as simple as it sounds, Finn. Who, in this universe, do you care about the most?"

"My fellow Troopers, Rey, and Poe."

"And if it came down to a choice between the two of them, who would you defend?"

That stopped Finn in his tracks. His face was like if the man across from him had just slugged him, and that was ironically what Jacen Shrike was hoping for.

"We'll come back to this later. Now I want you to answer another question. How old do I look to you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Just answer the question, kiddo."

"I don't know. I've seen a photo of you standing at the Concordance some thirty years ago. You don't look much older than that, and you look like you're just in your fifties."

"Well, would it surprise you that I am actually 83?"

"It would," Finn said evenly, "I've heard of people living long lives with our current medical technology, but 83? And you look like this?"

"You should see Shaak Ti. She's ten years older than me and she looks younger. I tell you, that woman does not age."

"How? The Force?"

"Yes, both cases. In hers, she became quite the savant to the healing arts and spent some two decades on Felucia. I on the other hand had an office on Ruusan on and off for the past three decades. Benefits from being so close to a nexus, I suppose."

"Then… then you would've been in the Clone Wars?"

"And before. I think you can see where I'm going with this."

Finn nodded, "You saw the rise of the Empire."

"And it's fall, and you wanna know I learned from living through the declines of two different governments? That none of it matters."

"I never took you for a nihilist."

"No no, you're missing the point altogether. Governments, Finn, don't matter in the end. They rise and fall all the time. Whether it be 25,000 years or 24, it's all the same. It's an unending cycle of rise and decline. It might be for a different reason, but the result is always the same."

"So you're an anarchist."

"I'm not saying that either. No, what I am saying is the thing I learned, and the thing that ultimately dug me out of the pit after I lost everything and everyone I ever cared about, is that people matter. The Billy-Bobs and Jaina-Joes of the universe. Because for every bad egg, there are good people, too. People who just need a little help from time to time, and I think you know that too. It's no accident that you felt sympathy for those folk in the village, afterall."

"Lot of good that did," Finn spat, "I still shot them."

"Sure you did, and then you broke Poe out. And then you went and saved a Jedi while you're at it."

"That doesn't absolve me of what I did to those people."

"No it doesn't. You're gonna have to live with that for the rest of your life, but maybe you can do something here and now to ensure that doesn't happen again. That no more of your brothers and sisters have to do what you had to do, because we both know that the First Order is going to do it again and again, until they either get what they want or are stopped. Even then, there's no guarantee the killing will stop with the former."

"But if I talk, if I tell you anything, you'll use that information to kill my brothers and sisters."

"Maybe, but that depends on what you tell me. Maybe what you give will be enough to stop this war before it even begins. But that will only happen if you tell me what you know."

Finn stared down at the table for a moment, his mind a great big giant mess of things that could be and things that would. He stared up at the two way glass in front of them, imagining **them** behind it. He nodded once, sighing as he did, and then he finally spoke "It was a great surprise."

"What was?" Shrike asked.

"When the Imperials retreated into the Unknown Regions, they found the Knights of Ren and a small interstellar empire waiting for them. They greeted them with ships and weapons modeled after GAR and Imperial designs but altered just enough to use the advantages of both while mitigating their weaknesses. They were the First Order."

Shrike leaned forward, his eyes alite with surprise, "You mean to tell me the First Order has been around before the fall of the Empire?"

"I'm saying they were around before the rise of it," Finn replied, "that's why they call themselves the First Order. They see themselves as the true successor of the Sith, and that Palpatine was just a failed pretender."

"And Hego Damask? How is he involved in all this?"

"He's the one who founded them. The Knights and the Order. I don't know who he really is or why he faked his death-"

"His death?" Shrike asked, "Are you talking about when he died just after the Battle of Naboo?"

"Yes. I don't know the exact details, but it was rumored that he was a supporter of Palpatine until he learned the truth about him, and Palpatine tried to murder him."

"What truth?"

"That he was not interested in bringing order to the galaxy. That he was more interested in becoming a god of a chaotic cesspool."

"That's one way of describing the Empire," Shrike nodded slowly as he chewed the end of his pipe, "so, Damask survived Palpatine, and then used his wealth and influence to go into hiding. To start building his own empire."

"That's the working theory," Finn nodded.

"Stars, the guy's had sixty years. Sixty years. How big is the First Order?"

"Best estimate? Several thousand planets, perhapes lower tens of thousands, maybe more."

"How many military installations?"

"I don't know. All I know is that every world we have has been developed in the interest of waging a war. Every world has been built up, fortified, and every citizen trained to fight and fight well."

"Damn… I mean surely they know that the New Republic and her allies outnumber them by a factor of, what? 1500 to 1, at least?"

"But how many of those worlds are dedicated to war production, and is your populace entirely devoted to an eventual conflict?"

"That is a good point, but even then, we still outnumber you."

"That is true. Why do you think the First Order is moving hell and chaos, trying to find the Star Forge?"

"How long have you been searching for it?"

"Probably before I was even born. The Unknown Regions are not known for its stable hyperspace routes. It makes it difficult to explore and travel. And that's not even including the less than friendly neighbors."

"Yes… we got plenty of that from the flamboyant pirates and the space lizards. I'm curious, did they pass through your territory before they came knocking on our door?"

"If by passing through you mean gave us a bit of a warm up? Yes. But they aren't even the worst neighbors we have."

"I know of one. Mnngal Mnngal, the thing the Chiss call the Mischief God."

"My superiors don't consider him a neighbor. They more consider him an invader."

"What did he do?"

"He took out a colony."

"What did you do with him?"

"We conducted Base Delta Zero and glassed the planet he was on."

"And that stopped him?" Shrike asked skeptically.

"If he has no life to consume, he can't grow. We haven't heard or seen from him since."

"Huh. Any chance the Knights of Ren were there?"

"They were, of course. They are our best weapon against our enemies."

"And what exactly is your government's relationship with them?"

"They… cooperate. I don't know the full extent of it, but they exist outside of the normal command structure. We cannot directly command them, nor can they directly command us, but we both answer to the same man."

"High Marshal Damask."

"Yes."

"Which begs the obvious question: is he a Force user himself?" Shrike asked Finn.

Finn shrugged, "Any and all personal information of Hego Damask was known only by himself and the High Lords of Ren, and even that is just speculation on my part. The rumor is that not even High Command knows all the details."

"Why do you say that?"

"Damask is an extremely private individual, essentially a recluse. Rumor has it that Sidious heavily disfigured him in his murder attempt."

"If he's a recluse, then how does he run his affairs?"

"He does it through proxy and hologram, most notably through Praetor Ren, Master of the Praetorian Guard."

"Praetorian? That's an old Aquillan term from their Imperial days. Why are they using such terminology?"

"That's because Praetor, and by extension his brother, Primaris Ren, are Aquillan. They were the first Lords of Ren, and some believe to be Damask's personal students."

"The first, huh? Then that means Damask has had contact with the Aquillan long before we did, and they only came out into the grandstage after Endor and Jakku."

"By about thirty six years, if I had to guess."

"And how many of these 'High Lords of Ren' are there?"

"Seven, at least as far as I know. They each command a fiefdom and a different part of the infrastructure within the Order."

"And those are, exactly?"

"Well, you know Praetor, he's the closest to Damask. Then there is Bal'Win, a feudal lord and the Master of Strategy. He's called the 'Lion' by his people."

"And they're all Force sensitive?"

"Yes, as far as I know. There is also Mechos, Master of the Forge and Archon of a client race who construct war machines for us."

Shrike held up his hand and pulled out a holo-projector, setting it on the table, "Skip to 22 minutes, 34 seconds," Shrike commanded, and the image of the black armored Reaper Droids in combat suddenly appeared, "are you referring to these machines?"

"Yes, one of them, at least. I don't know much about them other than they were built to take massive punishment. I saw one with a large hole through its center, I presume from my… ahem, Lor San's lightsaber."

"Noted. Continue."

"Following him is Typhaen, the Gorgon of Hydrus. I don't know much about her, to be honest. Or even if she is a she."

"What do you mean?"

"She's a changeling, a Shi'ido. All that I do know is that she has been operating deep in the Unknown Regions for the last several years, looking for something."

"The Forge?"

"I don't know, but I don't think so. Her title is Master of Beasts, after all."

"I see. Continue."

"Then there is Hussar, Master of Shadows, though that might be giving him a bit too much credit."

"How so?"

"He doesn't command a Fiefdom. That instead is run by Praetor."

"Why?"

"My superiors say the man is insane. That he cannot communicate beyond grunts and screams. It's also said that he was once an Inquisitor of the Old Empire."

"Which one?"

"I don't know his name, only his title: Lord Inquisitor."

Shrike frowned at that, "There was only one person in the Empire who held such a title. His name was Sedress, and he died on Jakku. The mission reports says he went down with his Star Destroyer."

"Apparently not, unless this is a different Lord Inquisitor."

"No, there was only one during the duration of the Empire. The Inquisition was very picky about its rank and files."

"Then that could explain his mental state."

"Possibly. I believe you have one more to name."

"Two, actually, and these are a few years recent. The first is Talon, the Master of Vengeance. I've actually seen her once."

"Describe her."

"She was wearing a mask at the time, but she was clearly a Twi'lek, red skinned. She was also a former Jedi."

That made Shrike's eyebrows rise in surprise, "Do you know her real name?"

"No, but she couldn't have been older than thirty, so she must've been one of your newer students."

"I see," Shrike nodded, his eyes rolling to the right as he chewed on the tip of his pipe, "and the last one is Primaris?"

"No, Primaris was killed here. I'm talking about his successor, Kylo Ren."

"Poe's Man in Black. What station does he hold?"

"Master of the Fleet, which also counts as his Fiefdom. I've never seen it, but I'm told it's made up of older, repurposed ships from the previous wars."

"And what can you tell me about the man, personally I mean?"

"I can't tell you much. I know he was recruited after Talon, that he's at least thirty years of age, and that he also inherited Primaris' title of First of Ren. And… well, he and Lor San Tekka seemed to know each other. Lor San said he taught him as a boy."

"Lor San taught a lot of people."

"And considering that he was a member of your Council… would that make Kylo a Jedi as well?"

Shrike didn't answer, instead his eyes ran to the table before them. After taking a puff of his pipe again, staring at the smoldering tabaco, he asked, "Did Lor San say anything that might give a clue as to Kylo Ren's identity? Anything would be helpful."

Finn took a moment to think on it, "I could barely make it out, but I think he said, 'was it easy? To betray your own family?' Kylo answered him back, 'no,' and laid him to rest."

Shrike's grip on his pipe tightened to the point where his knuckles turned white.

"You know who he is, don't you?" Finn asked.

Shrike stared up at the two way glass, seeing his own reflection amid the smoke staring right back at him, "Let's call it a day, Finn. You've been great help thus far."

Finn nodded slowly, resisting the urge to rise from his chair, "What happens to me now?"

"Well, you're not going in a cell, and until I say otherwise, you're Ranger property."

"Understood."

"You're free to the grounds, but never alone. You'll have someone close to you at all times."

Finn nodded, "And may I ask who that will be?"

Shrike smiled very slightly, his eyes moving to the dura-steel door as he mouthed 'three, two, one,' but nothing happened. He sighed and got up from his seat, grumbling, "Every frickin' time."

He walked over to the two way window, knocking on the glass, "Um, that's your cue?"

The door opened to reveal Poe and Rey, the latter of whom smiled embarrassingly at the pair of them, "Sorry. Always had bad timing."

"Speak for yourself, sister!" Poe scoffed, "I did it on purpose. Hey man, how you doin'?"

Finn shrugged, "I never took you for being petty, Poe."

"Hey, I'm an equal opportunity joker. I can be forgiven for being vindictive once in a while."

"So long as it's harmless, Commander?" Shrike asked with a smirk as he took a puff of his pipe, "You do realize that me and the Old Man are friends from back in the War, right?"

"Uh heh, yeah. Yeah, I know."

Rey chuckled at that and Poe shot her a scornful look. "He's just following protocole, Poe," she then looked over at Finn, "it's nothing personal."

"Honestly? I would be surprised if this sort of thing didn't happen."

"Well, the last time we took in a supposed defectee, the massassi temple was blown to hell." Shrike pointed out.

"Now that you say that," Poe shook his head, "I can definitely understand that."

"Good for you, Poster Boy. Go back to flying X-Wings and leave me to do spy work, hmm? You're dismissed. Oh and you two? Our boy never leaves one of your sights, or otherwise, he's going in a cell."

"Don't worry, Master," Rey smiled cheerfully, "we won't hang ourselves."

"Dear, stop being so cheerful. That was Tahiri's job."

"Well, she's not here, so I've got to compensate."

"Sure. Now git. And don't blow up my Temple again."

"Hey, that was not my fault!" Rey called as Poe pushed her out the door with Finn following close behind.

Finn stopped a moment and turned his head to Shrike. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Giving me a chance."

"Hey," he smiled, "you ain't the first person from the other side of things who grew a convenient conscience. Ask Rey about her dad one of these days, he's a class example. Now, git. Treat it like leave, just you can't leave the planet."

"Yes sir," and he was gone. Shrike sighed in that moment, collapsing into his chair as 83 years of pure exhaustion seemed to wash over him. He felt his age in that moment, and he suspected he looked it.

He pulled the pipe out of his mouth, staring at the small inscription on the underside of it that read 'To a friend.' Shrike's eyes twinkled in that moment, his mouth opening a little by impulse. Then his gloved hand tightened into a fist, and in a sudden flash of rage, he slammed it into the table, leaving another dent in it.

He breathed out, shuddering with regret and shame as he stared out at the ruins of the home he had helped build… and had helped destroy.


	33. Chapter 27 - Heart to Heart

**Chapter 31 - Heart to Heart**

* * *

 ** _Providence-_ class Dreadnought _Scarlet Night_**

 **High Orbit of Vardoss**

* * *

"Have we made contact with the buyers yet? I don't want the damn beasts anywhere near our boys any longer than necessary, Bonnie."

The Devorian shrugged her shoulders, "The daft fool is draggin' his feet. Don't worry, Cap'n, I'll keep workin' on him. We'll get full price."

"I hope so," Sydow sighed, looking over a datapad sprawling with names and medical conditions, "that damn job cost us twenty three lads, and a blow to our reputation. Plus, twenty more who'll be staying in sick bay for the conceivable future."

"And the fact those B-1's are now useless?"

Sydow snorted, "Of course Han left a bloody shut down virus in their programming. How's Mister Tiege's progress in the matter?"

"Slow. He says it'll be more cost effective to just melt them down and rebuild them."

"Smashing."

"If you want some good news, the Imps are paying us a hefty sum for the Terentatek we brought, as well as compensation for our losses."

"Why in the Seven Corellian Hells would the grandkids want that bloody monstrocity?"

"It's rumored it's the man upstairs who wants the bloody monstrocity."

"Oh," that perked his interests, "so the man in black has a fancy for unkillable oversized crustaceans?"

"I'm not sure that thing is a crab, cap'n," Bonnie chuckled, "isn't it technically a repto-mammal?"

"Probably, but I don't care. It has crusty looking carapace and it won't die, so it's a lobster. And I will hear no further argument from ye, or I will deduct your pay."

"It's a genetically modified Rancor meant to hunt Jedi and kill other sith, Captain," Kylo Ren said entering the bridge, "so in all actuality, it is a repto-mammal."

Sydow grinned behind his helm as he pointed to Bonnie, "Lass, get Mister Morgann up here. I want this boys' cred account hacked."

"Don't bother, my finances are in a vault in hard currency."

"Don't care. I'm gonna find it and deduct your pay."

"You're welcomed to try, Captain," Kylo Ren chuckled, the sound rather unnerving from the black clad Sith warrior.

"You're an odd one, ya know that?" Sydow shifted his head over to glare questioningly at him, "The previous red blades I knew would never banter with me like this."

"I have a sense of humor, deduct my pay for all I care."

"Do you even get paid?" Bonnie asked incredulously, "I mean… what would you spend it on?"

"I can imagine a few things, but no, I'm not paid. At least not conventionally. We receive the necessary resources to finance our various operations."

"Then why do you have a vault full of hard currency?" Bonnie asked with a smile.

"It's… from a past life. I suppose you could say it's for a rainy day."

"Funny. I never thought you brown robes got paid," Sydow stated.

"Master Hett hired you, didn't he?" Kylo deflected.

"Master Hett offered me payment, true, but it was mostly through my ability to steal Zhan's… ah, that's how you did it. You stole it from crime lords, didn't you?"

"They didn't need the money anymore," Sydow could feel a smirk in the Kylo's voice, "only a fool leaves a free pile of money around uncollected."

"Funny. I recall saying that back during the Kessel Run," Sydow replied, turning to his second mate, "thank you for the update, Bonnie. You may go."

Getting the obvious change in mood and the fact that in no small way he told her to get out she nodded, "Aye Captain." with that she left the room leaving the two alone.

Sydow stared at the man before him for a moment before sighing, "What the hell happened to you, boy?"

Kylo Ren crossed his arms, "What does it matter to you? You hate my father."

"Believe it or not, lad, I really don't. He just has a nasty habit of pissing me off, and shooting me, and leaving me in the vacuum."

"It's a wonder you don't hate him."

"Boy, Han and me have an interesting relationship," he sighed as he pulled out a bottle of Corellian ale, "at one point we were as close as brothers, he and I."

"And then the Kessel Run happened?"

Sydow didn't reply. He just stared into his reflection in the bottle, the armored helm of the war chief he killed all those years ago staring back at him.

"Tell me something, lad," he said after a length, "how does the Jedi's posterboy turn into a Lord of the Sith?"

"Why did you come work for us considering your past?" Kylo countered.

Sydow just shook his head, poured two glasses and handed one to Kylo, "To us outcasts of the New Republic, huh?"

"Thanks," Kylo nodded but he put the glass down, "but I don't drink. I haven't in a very long time."

"You might want to start, lad, it makes things bearable."

"Not really," Kylo sighed, "all it does is just make things go away for a while, but never permanently."

"For what it's worth," Sydow gestured with his glass, "I'm sorry for what happened to your master."

"Were you involved?"

"No."

"Then you have nothing to be sorry for."

"Not true. I knew her, too. Hellova lass, she was. Probably would've made a good outlaw if she weren't a brown robe."

"Under the Empire, outlaw, rebel and Jedi were the same thing."

"True, I suppose. Why you here, exactly?"

"I need to collect whatever data you have on the operation. Recordings and that sort of thing, and well," he chuckled softly, "I need directions to my quarters."

"Y'know, you could've asked anybody else for that."

"Sure, but I like you. And I can see why my father did at one point, too."

"Yeah well," Sydow sighed as he downed the wine, "better he hates me than be dead. I'll take that as a trade."

"Even after he left you in a vacuum?"

"Son, I threatened your mother. That was perfectly fair, all things considered."

"How did you survive that?"

"You're really asking that after I got mauled by the bloody lobster?"

"Touche."

"Talk to Bonnie. She'll sort you out."

Kylo nodded and turned to head out the door, but he stopped as Sydow asked, "One other thing, is the blonde on board yet?"

"Her and the Commandos will be here shortly."

"Good. When she arrives, send her my way."

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Kylo asked as he turned his head to look at him, Sydow's reflection distorted over the obsidian visor.

"No, but it is necessary. Building bridges and all that. Go to it, lad. Oh, and one last thing."

"Yes?"

"My door is always open if you ever feel like heartstringin'."

"I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

There was something rather familiar about this ship and the air it produced, Phasma concluded as the shuttle touched down in the hangar and the pressurization were released. Of course, she'd never stepped foot on this ship or any other _Providence-_ Class for that matter.

No, the familiarity was a more painful and abstract thing that brought her back to her childhood, and she strove to beat back the memories with the ironclad discipline that had made her from helpless girl into the woman she was now. It didn't work.

Already, she was back in Parnassos, the beating sun and purple chem skies spewing lightning every other second; the older recycled air of the ship akin to the taste of copper. It was only a little better than the filtered air here people breathed in their underground hab-blocks, or in the pressure suits they wore above ground during the worst of the radiation storms.

The burning aftertaste made her gasp for a moment, the charred ground sinking beneath her like a sponge cake. There was a piercing scream behind her, and she whirled around; the air suddenly tasting like ash and smoke.

"No…" she whispered as the scene before her unfolded, helpless to stop it. Helpless as the fire spread and the screams rose. All around her was the chaos of not battle, but a massacre. Men in red tearing away at men in white, women and children dancing in chained columns, the sanctuary they'd built burning before her with the foul scent of oil and roasting tissue.

"No..." she moaned in despair

"Ma'am, are you alright?" SC-023 asked, bracing her by her shoulder as he eyes suddenly snapped open. She turned to face the black armored trooper, his fluorescent green visor staring at her with an apprehensive posture.

"I'm fine," Phasma sighed, "thank you, FN-0523."

"Ma'am," the trooper chuckled softly, "I'm not in the Stormtrooper Corps anymore."

"You'll always be one of my troopers, Twenty-Three," Phasma replied back as the locking hatches unhooked and the ramp began to descend, "remember that always."

"Also remember not to shoot the bandits again, Twenty-Three," SC-011 quirked with a smirk in her voice, "I know you're into the lone wolf stuff, but no need to get us killed before we get started."

"What you kiddin', L?" Twenty-Three chuckled back, "They damn well deserved it, and you know it."

"Really, now?" SC-080 countered, "Not their fault you're compensating for something with that blaster of yours."

"Bite me, Eighty."

"Sorry, tried to bite your ear off once during training. Didn't taste too good."

"You were tasting the wrong place, Eighty," L smirked.

"Oooh, I smell something fishy there," SC-111 cut in a with a wry laugh, turning her head to the other trooper, "care to elaborate a bit on that, L?"

"Not on your life, Ones, and I told you before, it's never going to happen."

"Can't blame a girl for trying, L."

"Well, depending on whether or not we get our own room…" Twenty-Three began but L cut him off sharply.

"Don't even think about it, hotshot."

"Can't blame me for trying."

"You know," Phasma suddenly echoed from the front, "it is a good thing that we are speaking on **private** channels, and we're not on a First Order ship. Actually, I find it worse that we are on a vessel of riff raff who don't think very much of us to begin with."

"Are you telling us to be professional, mum?" Eighty asked, and Phasma just stared at the big trooper.

"I just rather not have the honor of the Corps spoiled by unsavory behavior."

"Don't worry, ma'am," Twenty-Three replied with a curt nod, "I'll keep the squad in line."

"You better," Phasma said with a smile, "or otherwise I will split you all up and put you in separate corners."

"Yes, mum," the other three troopers replied, and Phasma couldn't help but chuckle silently to herself.

"Children."

The ramp dropped and the troopers were surprised to find Kylo Ren waiting for them. Immediately, the four troopers bowed their heads and slammed their fists onto their armored breastplates; immediately switching over to an open frequency. Kylo returned the gesture.

"Captain Phasma," Kylo nodded curtly.

"Lord Kylo," Phasma replied with a slight air of suspicion, "I didn't realize you were on-board already."

"I had some matters to attend to with our host, and I wanted to get an understanding of them before complications arrived."

"I see," Phasma nodded, "and I doubt you're just here to greet us."

Kylo avoided the obvious question, "Your quarters have been prepared, and the crew has been informed to keep out of our way. They'll also supply us with anything we require."

"I guess now would be a good time as any to get our combat fatigues," Twenty-Three replied.

"You mean combat rags?" Ones inquired, "Considering the state of their uniforms."

"Careful," L replied, "our hosts, remember? Besides, it'd be kind of obvious if we were to attack Takodana in our armor."

"I don't suppose we'll have a guide, m'lord?" Eighty asked, and a young Zabrak female came into view. She had the look of disdain mixed with forced hospitality.

"Well well, more boys in black, and y'all got yourselves quite the lip," the pirate curled hers, revealing strangely long canines underneath, "now, unless you're out to be a buncha jokers lookin' to not make me laugh, I suggest you fall in step and come and get y'all's measurements for your 'combat rags'. Otherwise, you can get the hell off our ship."

The four troopers looked among each other for a moment before looking at Phasma. The Captain shrugged, "I'd do what the lass says."

"Yes, mum," the troopers grumbled as they grabbed their kit and followed the Zabrak out of the hangar.

"So?" Phasma asked, crossing her arms.

"Our host wants an audience with you."

"Why?"

"Building bridges," Kylo answered, "he also had Corellian wine out at the time."

"I see. Where's the blaggard?"

"His office, up in the observatory spire. I take it you know where that is?"

"I do. I've run combat drills on mock-ups of ships like this before."

"Captain, I suggest you follow the same advice you gave your troopers. Be nice. We need to work with these people."

"I am aware, Lord Kylo. I'll be as courteous as long as **he** is."

"That's all I ask."

* * *

The design of the _Providence-_ Class' observation spire always struck Sydow as an oddity. He'd come to greatly respect the design specifications and wartime legacy of the old Separatist Navy, especially in the general pragmatic nature of their battle-cruisers. The _Providence-_ Class was a well designed ship-line, from its weapon choice and placement to even how the bridge was tucked into the ship with minimal exposure.

In many ways, it reminded him of Chiss design philosophy, especially with the new designs Emperor Thrawn was cooking up every given quota. This spire however, stuck out like a sore thumb. It was taller in height than the main body of the ship, and so thinly structured that good lance strike would sever it in two. It was as though the designers had purposely made it a target for their opponents to shoot at.

Perhaps in a way it was ingenious, but it was certainly not something Sydow would have implemented if he'd a hand in designing the ship. Indeed, the only reason why he hadn't cut the blasted thing down was because of the view it granted him on occasions like this.

"Old man was right," Sydow whispered as he smiled behind his helm, "this world does have a splendid sunrise." It especially made the newly arriving crimson ships coming in on the cusp of the world glow like fire floating on a dark ocean.

The door behind him opened then, and the man's smile grew a slight longer, "I see you got my message."

"I never took Lord Kylo as a common courier," Captain Phasma's reverberated voice answered, "or that he would delivering one from you."

"My dear captain, if I had sent of my lads to fetch you, would you have come?"

"No."

"I thought so. Though our friend in black does not command you, you still heed his word as though he did. Besides, he is a good enough lad to see the value in this."

"I can't believe that an esteemed Lord of Ren would trust a pirate like you."

"Trust? Trust has nothing to do with it, captain. Foresight and common sense? Those are the currencies of this current realm. Besides," he turned around to face the woman, "I am not a pirate. I carry letters of mark from both your Grand Admiral and the High Marshal himself."

"You can argue semantics all you want, pirate," Phasma replied coldly with a shift of her armored helm, "that does not change what you were and still are."

"Really? Does that mean you're still just a tribal orphan of a dead tribe on a dead world no one cared about until a certain admiral bumbled into it?"

"Tell me, Captain Sydow, did anyone care who you were until you put on that ridiculous mask of yours?"

"You're one to talk, Ms. Chromedome. But no, that implies that symbols have meaning inherent to them. They only have meaning when you impart them the deeds that provide the necessary meaning."

"So, the mask did not make you, hmm?"

"Anymore than that armor made you, Captain Phasma."

Phasma nodded, and then caught herself mid-movement. Though he could not see her eyes, he felt them boring into him with an icy intensity. "Why did you call me here, exactly?"

"Parlay," Sydow replied, moving his large frame to the side to reveal a table perched on the best spot of the spire, along with the best wine in hundreds of systems, "I feel it's time you and I had a talk, and I mean a real talk."

"And why should we?" Phasma asked, crossing her arms, "you've been perfectly content with the way our relationship was. Traded barbs and all that."

"Well lass, we've never had to work together. The last thing I need is a blaster in back, specifically yours."

"If you're implying I would endanger our mission in such a… **brazen** attempt," Sydow detected the hints of a smirk in her voice, "you need not worry. I know my duty."

"Lass, that is precisely the issue. Since eventually your **duty** could have you put your piece between my vertebrae or a vibro-blade across my neck, and I wouldn't have done anything to warrant it."

"You've done plenty in your illustrious life to warrant such a thing, and not just from me."

"I could say the same for you, Captain. I've walked over many corpses in my illustrious life, but you've probably walked over more."

"The difference is that I did that for a cause greater than my own personal interests."

"I disagree. Revenge isn't much of a greater cause than profit. At least one requires you to be honest."

"And you're certainly honest about your intentions, aren't you? Tell me, if the New Republic hadn't dried up work and you hadn't made such enemies of Tyber Zhan, would you have come working for us?"

"Probably not, but like I said, I'm honest about why I'm here. Your government pays me and allows me a somewhat freehand in what I do."

"You're right, at least you are honest."

"Finally. We're getting somewhere. Now, if you please, sit and drink with me."

"I don't drink."

"Then sit and talk, though I am getting a bit tired of drinking alone. First our friend in black, and now you."

"You have a crew," Phasma deadpanned, "drink with them."

"Perhaps, but you're my guest. What kind of host would I be if I didn't at least offer?"

"How nice of you," Phasma said, sneering slightly as she sat down with a groan, "do good hosts conceal their faces from their guests?"

"How waggish, my dear captain. But as you wish."

His leather bound hands took hold of the helm, the horned form coming free with the hiss of pressurized air. As he set it down on the table, Phasma made the very distinct movements of someone doing a double-take.

"What?" Sydow asked.

"You… were not what I expected."

Sydow laughed at this, a sound more akin to a bark than humor, "I suppose that's warranted. You're not the first to make a point of it."

Phasma nodded slowly, her helm making the small movements related to her looking him up and down. "Why do you look so… young?"

Sydow ran a hand through his thick graying red beard and hair, chuckling as he did, "I take especially good care of meself, captain."

Phasma laughed for a moment. Just a moment, but it made the Crimson Corsair smile softly. "For a man in his seventies," Phasma replied, "that is quite impressive."

"I take it I have a file?"

"Yes," she shrugged, "it's not very thick, I'll tell you. Most of what we have is hearsay and rumor."

"Oh, well that's insulting. I spent forty years building a reputation, and that's all there is, hmm?"

"You're not exactly straight with us, captain. I am curious about something-"

Sydow raised his hand, "I won't be answering any further questions from an impolite guest."

Phasma stared at him at him for a moment, sighing eventually as she pulled off the helmet in one frustrated pull; setting the helmet down opposite from Sydow's great helm.

"Ah," Sydow smiled, "so that's what you've been hiding all this time, eh?"

Phasma narrowed her ice blue eyes at him, her lips forming a rather cross expression, "You're rather enjoying this, aren't you?"

"And why wouldn't I be? Now, your question?"

"Your skin."

"What about it?"

"Why does it have a green tint to it? And I know it's not from the light here."

"Well, aren't you a sharp one," Sydow grumbled as he poured himself a glass, "well lass, it's the same reason as to why I cannot die. Not easily anyway. I take it you've met the Toff?"

"I've dueled one before. Bunch of flamboyant, green skinned giant pirates that-" she stopped herself, looking at him with a sudden clarity, "that have red hair."

Sydow smiled as he took a slow and delicate sip, "Aye, you're on the right track."

"So," the ghost of a smile passed Phasma's lips, "you really were born in the business, hmm?"

Sydow's eyes grew dark in that moment, like as though someone had just walked over his grave, "No, I wasn't."

"What do you mean by that?"

Sydow didn't answer at first, staring sideways out the observation spires massive windows at the rising sun.

"Captain?" Phasma asked again.

"What do you know about the Kessel Run?" Sydow asked.

"That it was a cover for the attempted theft of the Suncrusher superweapon from the Maw Installation located around Kessel. That the Suncrusher was destroyed by-"

"Cale Cathorn."

"Yes. You were part of his crew, if I remember correctly."

"I was," Sydow replied, staring into the red pool of wine in his glass, "which wasn't by accident. Y'see, a job like that requires a crew that knows what they're doing, but do separate bits. Otherwise, whole thing falls apart before it even starts."

Phasma didn't say anything, instead leaning back in her chair; watching the subtle changes of expression in the mans face. There was a levity to him that she'd never felt before, but also gloom.

After a moment, and another sip, Sydow continued, "Cale was a legend in his own right. Best smuggler, thief and mercenary there ever was. Cale never went at you from the front, always the sides. Always subtle. The problem was, man was a gambler. Not for cred, you understand. It was about controlling the odds. That was his problem, always needing to be in control."

"I heard he was indebted to Prince Xizor of Black Sun."

"He was. That's why the job happened."

Phasma raised both eyebrows, "He wanted the Suncrusher?"

"Of course he did. Man had ambitions to make Black Sun legitimate, something to be truly respected and feared. A weapon that can destroy an entire star system? That will certainly raise a few heads."

"And what was your part in all this? If I had to guess, you were muscle."

"Funny, but no," he then removed his gloves and the gaiter around his neck, "I was a guide."

At first, Phasma didn't quite know what she was looking at. Then she looked closer, and saw there tiny red bands burrowed into the flesh. She nodded with understanding, "You were a slave."

Something changed in the man's blue eyes; something dark and twisted, like a coiling snake with its fangs unsheathed. "That's the thing about Toff. They'll do anything for profit, including selling half-breed bastards like me."

Phasma nodded, "How did you get out?"

"My secret," Sydow smirked, "let's just say that I'm a crafty bastard, and Cale found out. Tracked me down, took me in. That man was more a father to me than my own flesh and blood," he spat out the last word, slamming his glass in the table, "and all that thrown away because of guilt and a tramp."

Phasma leaned forward, "What do you mean?"

Sydow looked up at her, a small smirk on his face, "Well look at that, I can tell a good story. What I mean is that Cale threw his life away to destroy the Suncrusher. Said it was too dangerous for anyone to have, Empire or Xizor."

"Would you have preferred if Xizor had gotten the Suncrusher."

"No, lass, what I am trying to say is that the man didn't need to pilot the blasted thing himself into a black hole."

"Some might call that heroic."

"I call it stupid. He only did it because he took a hit to the gut and thought he was gonna die anyway. And that only happened because of that harlot, Qi'ra."

"I'm not familiar with that name."

"I doubt you would be. Some tramp Han fell with back on Corellia. Got scooped up by Xizor and used her as his personal agent on the job. When things went south, she betrayed us," he took another sip of his wine, shrugging, "and Han shot her."

Phasma stared at him for a long moment, "Why do I feel there is more to the story?"

"There is, but I'm not in the mood to tell you."

"Then why did you tell me all this? Was it for sympathy's sake?"

"No," he replied crossly, "I don't give a damn about sympathy; yours or anyone else's."

"Then why did you tell me?"

Sydow's eyes drew the table, sighing as he rapped his ringers against it, "Because you were here, and I haven't been honest with someone for a long time. I think you know the feeling."

"I…" Phasma looked away, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't do that. We were just starting to get friendly."

"Friendly?" Phasma's face grew cold like verglas, "You and I, friendly? I don't think so."

"Why do you hate me so much?" the question caught her off guard, "Ever since we met, you've always been a right gripe to me."

"I told you my reason."

"Yeah yeah, I'm a pirate, I heard you the first time," he waved a dismissive hand at her as a smug smile drew across his craggy face, "you know what I think? I think behind all the armor and attitude, you're just a scared little girl crying for her family."

Something snapped in the woman's eyes, like as though he'd just awakened a sleeping bear. He was already on his feet when the table went flying across the room, hands still holding the wine bottle as the giant of a woman closed the distance.

"You don't know anything about me," she seethed, her icy blue eyes flashing angrily as if they were hit by a plasma thrower and turned into a blue star. Sydow starred up into woman's eyes and allowed himself a small smile.

"I think you'll be surprised about what I know, Phasma. Take for instance another certain red armored captain we both knew of."

Phasma's eyes widened before they narrowed again, "How do you know about that?"

"I never go to work for someone until I check their closets. You're no exception," he then grabbed the table and flip it back over, sitting back down with a groan, "and in many ways, I think this is about him."

"This has nothing to do with Cardinal," she spat, but Sydow shook his head at her.

"This has everything to do with him. I know what he did, and I know what you had to because of it. And judging by your face, I think you know it too."

Phasma's stared at him for a long moment before she drew back into a knowing expression, "You did that on purpose. Goading me like that."

"Well, you are easy," Sydow shrugged, taking another sip of the wine.

"And why did you do that?"

"For the same reason I called you here. We've been dogging each others tracks for a long time, captain, and quite frankly, I'm getting tired of the game."

"So what? You're here to pry me out of my shell? Is that it?"

"Call it a character flaw. I don't like unsolved puzzles, and you're perhaps the biggest one I've seen."

"I could say the same about you," she sighed, slumping into her chair, "and there's one that I still don't understand."

"I'm an open book, captain. Ask, and I will answer."

"Sure," she shook her head, "why would a slave come work for us?"

"I told you."

"Yes, because we pay you. But do you know what your story tells me? You're sentimental about things. That's not exactly the most common trait in a cold blooded mercenary."

"Nor the most common in a raider turned captain," Sydow grinned.

"Funny. Sydow, you were not just enslaved on Kessel, were you? After all, the Kessel Run took place on the Maw Installation, and you said yourself, you were a guide."

"I did."

"Then that means you were property of the Empire. So I ask again, why would you come work for us, a people trying to restore the Old Empire? It doesn't make sense to me."

"Well, tell me something, Phasma," he replied, leaning forward, "does your nation deal in slaves like your forefathers?"

"No," she replied with cold certainty, "an unwilling subject does not make for a loyal one, and we do not have the luxury of disloyalty."

"See, that's the difference right there. Between you and New Republic, that is. They don't know what they want to be, you do. Perhaps there was a time when they did; when they really did stand for what they believed in. But now? Idealism isn't the currency of the realm anymore."

"Currency is the currency of the realm," Phasma replied, the ghost of a smile passing her lips, "I didn't take you for someone with those sort of principles."

"I'm not really that principled, Phasma," Sydow shrugged, "I just see your lot as a solution to a great deal of problems."

"You mean when we win this war?"

That made him laugh, "Don't be stupid, Phasma. I know you're not. Your lot cannot win this war, it's just mathematically impossible. But you don't have to win to fix the galaxy's woes."

"Are you going to relate the galaxy to a pond, by chance?"

"I see you've heard the analogy before."

"I have," she said with a voice that trailed the edges of a soft whisper, "a pond that's still will accumulate muck and scum. Throw a pebble in it though, and watch the ripples tear them away. I'm not sure that's how things work though."

"It will in this case. Nothing stirs nationalism like war, and when they can't clobber you, they'll clobber those they can."

"Zhan and the Hutts, you mean?"

An arctic smile crossed his face in that moment, "Zhan and Zorba are living on borrowed time and they know it. Oh, they'll try to stop what's coming, try to stab them in the back while you hold the New Republic by the throat. They'll bleed, but they won't die, and their vengeance will end them once and for all."

"Hmm," she smiled slightly at that, "a mathematical improbability, some might call it."

"But not an impossibility," he gestured a glass to her, but she shook her head again. "You are quite stubborn, you know that?"

"As many keep reminding me," she shrugged, "I suppose it's what's got me here. Not wanting to give up."

"On things, or people?"

She looked at him for a moment, asking, "Why not both?"

"Well, things are unchanging, so I'll give you that. But people? Well, people change everyday, and sometimes you can't make them change back. Not even if it's one of your own troopers."

Her eyes flashed with an emotion he couldn't quite identify, but they eventually settled on cold regimen, "My orders are to retrieve the data stolen from Jakku, captain. Nothing more."

He leaned in close, grinning as he did, "And we both know that's only a half-truth, captain. I also know that the good admiral sent you here because he doesn't trust Lord Kylo. So is it too much of a stretch to assume you have your own motivations while you're out here?"

"I suppose not."

"You do know the First Order's regulation regarding traitors?"

"FN-2187 is not a traitor," she said bluntly, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Well," he shrugged, "according to your superiors, he is."

"Well, they didn't happen to have trained him, now have they? Raised him? I know him better than they do, and maybe even better than he does himself."

"He's just one trooper, Phasma."

"Would you say the same for your crew?"

"That's fair, I suppose. The thing is, none of them have ever betrayed me."

"As I said, FN-2187 isn't a traitor. Yes, he was manipulated and used against us, but he has never taken lethal force against his brethren. You've no doubt seen the security footage and cam records from the troopers engaging him."

"I have, Phasma, but that's the problem. While he hasn't betrayed his brethren but he certainly has betrayed his government."

"They are one and the same."

"Are they?" he asked. She didn't answer, and he just shook his head, "I understand that you want to protect your troopers. Believe me, I do. I'd willingly do the same for one of me lads. But this man made his choice, and there's nothing you can do that will change that."

"I don't believe that, Sydow. What I do believe that FN-2187 is lost, confused. Any fault he has rests on me."

"You?"

She shook her head, "I should have recognized what the death of his men would do to him. I should've had him transferred out the moment we got back to the ship. I should've helped him more than I did."

Sydow nodded slowly, a revelation confirmed. "Are you talking about Eighty-Seven or Cardinal, Phasma?"

"Both," she replied.

Sydow sighed, "You can't let what could have been blind you to what is. It will only cause you even more pain, and in my case, it stranded me in the vacuum. I was so obsessed with trying to fix things between me and Han that I damn near killed the woman he loved. A woman who actually gave a damn about him. But I was blind, and I fear that is what you are becoming now."

"I… I appreciate the sentiment, captain, but I will not give up my troopers. I can't. I won't lose more of my tribe to this… madness."

"Madness, captain?" Sydow shook his head, "There are many words I could use to describe Captain Cardinal, but madness isn't one of them. But certainty, is."

"Only a fool is certain, captain."

"And was he a fool, captain?"

"No," she whispered, closing her eyes as she did, "he was anything but. He was… everything to me. Everything I wanted to be. Strong, loyal, courageous. Even damn heroic. He was the Hero of the First Order, a true believer in what we stood for. But I suppose that was problem."

Sydow remained silent, nodding as she continued, "He was too damn loyal. Believed so much in the promise of the Empire Reborn that he was willing to do anything for it. And so cowardly men manipulated him, turning him from the hero to an arch-traitor… and I could have stopped it."

"Phasma," Sydow interrupted, "that man made his choice, based on his own goal and morals. You can't take away his agency, that's the point of being sentient. And when a man is willing to kill his own, then there is no going back. There is nothing you could have done or said that would've changed that."

"Maybe you're right," she nodded, "but I suppose that's the difference between them. FN-2187 hasn't killed, and won't kill his own. He isn't gone yet, and I'm going to bring him home."

"Even against orders?"

"Orders be damned," she said with a certainty that suddenly made him grin.

"What?" she asked, suddenly becoming cross.

"Oh, nothing," he chuckled, "you just put together the puzzle, that's all."

"Oh," she smiled slyly, "you've figured me out, haven't you?"

"Not quite, but that wasn't the puzzle I was referring to."

"Then what is?"

"Oh," he shrugged his shoulders, "y'know, why I'm attracted to you."

Phasma's face blushed like a rose in that moment, and by the look of her face, he knew her heart skipped a moment, "W-what?"

"I know, it's strange.' he grinned toothily, "caught me off guard, too. But I think I know why now."

"I… I," she suddenly became out of breath, shaking her head, "I could use that drink now."

Sydow acquiesced, handing the bottle to her and a glass. She downed it in one go.

"Whoa easy," he chuckled, "that's vintage, lass. You're suppose to take it slow."

"I know," she panted, absolutely flustered. It took her a long moment to regain her composure, and when she did, she sighed like the grave, "It is never going to happen, Sydow."

Surprisingly Sydow just shrugged in acknowledgment, "I figured, what with the rumors and all."

That caught her attention "What rumors?"

"Oh, y'know, that you like to spar a lot with troopers of the fairer sex."

There was indignation in her eyes as they narrowed, "Where and who did these rumors come from?"

"Why do you want to know?" Sydow grinned.

"So I can silence them with a blaster," Phasma replied with a subdued fury.

"You'll have to ask around the ship, I can't quite remember."

"If I do that, I'll be perpetuating the ru-" she stopped upon seeing the smirk cracking his face, "You're just messing with me, aren't you?"

"Yes," Sydow laughed, "you are so easy to prod."

"You cheeky bastard," she laughed, "you almost had me."

"Don't worry, you're not the worst or first. I actually pulled it on Hux's son once. He fell for it completely."

That made her laugh like she never had before. After a moment, she sighed again, "How long have you've been… well, attracted to me?"

"Always," Sydow grinned, "couldn't quite understand why until today."

"I um, I'm flattered. But don't get your hopes up, Sydow."

"I'm a perfectly patient man, Phasma, and I've still got another lifetime to go. So, I can afford to wait."

"You might be waiting a long time, then."

"We'll see. Now, pour yourself another one, and let's enjoy the sunrise, shall we?"

* * *

 **Update from the Authors**

* * *

Hey folks, this is JSailer and Squasher. Alright something strange happened during this update. According to our schedule, today was the day that Chapter 32 was to be uploaded, but for whatever reason this chapter wasn't uploaded when it was supposed to be (and the file was on the site, so I know I uploaded it.) So because of this, we're going to upload both Chapter 31 and 32 to make up for this conundrum. We hope you enjoy.


	34. Intermission 5 - Sabacc Talk

**Chapter 32 - Sabacc Talk**

* * *

 **Takodana**

 **Jedi Temple Mess Hall**

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Finn asked as he walked with Poe to the general quarters, wading through a milling crowd of soldiers, Rangers and pilots getting their evening chow, "I've never played Sabacc."

"Well, Rey's gone off doing whatever Jedi do, so you're stuck with me and I say this is good time killer. Besides, what **did** you guys do for fun, then?" Poe asked with a smile.

"Watched our women engage in sparring," Finn replied straight faced.

"Wait, really?"

"Sometimes we joined in."

"Finn, are you being serious here, or is this some kind of innuendo?"

"Which do you think?"

"Heh, Finn buddy, I feel like I'm a bad influence on you."

"I had a sense of humor before we met, Poe. I dare say we never dishonored the Corps in any way or fashion. We were, as you might say, sticklers when it came to rules. Zeroes especially," he suddenly caught himself, but just shook his head, "though Nines was always looking to bend the limits of said rules. Half the reason for their fights, actually."

"Sounds like a fun guy."

"Not really. He probably would want to shoot you for being a Reb."

"I change my mind then."

"I hope you haven't changed your mind about losing your month's pay, Black Cat!" a heavy voice called from ahead, "I lost my wallet 'cause of you!"

That brought a smirk to Poe's lips, "Ain't my fault you bet wrong, Snap! Shame on you thinkin' I'd lost a leg in the process!"

"Poe, every time you get involved in a gamble, I always lose money! You're my regular bad luck charm!"

"It's quite simple, Snap. Don't bet against me."

"Not on your life."

Once Poe and Finn got past the waiting chow line, they found they had a table reserved for them. Waiting for them were three other pilots with their orange jumpsuits tucked under white cotton shirts, who Finn guessed were part of Poe's squadron.

"Oh, what's this?" a tall female Zeltron rose with a smile, "You brought a date, Poe? Why didn't you tell us? We could've made this a quad-night."

"You're hilarious." Poe chuckled as he beckoned Finn over, standing by his side, "Finn, meet Black Squadron. Ms. Personality over here is Deliah Blue, my second."

"Ma'am," Finn nodded, his eyes running over the Zeltron's form with a curious appreciation. Oddly, her fuscia-pink skin took on a sudden shine, like as though she were some neon sign blaring in a cold night. Every detail about her seemed to almost pop, from her blue hair to the shine of her amber eyes and the swellness of her…

Finn suddenly became aware of what was happening and he narrowed his eyes at her. Poe had told him about the powers of Zeltron hormones on the unprepared. When she met his gaze, her eyes took on an unexpectedly genuine shock.

"Sorry," she shrugged her shoulders, "let's just say I get a little defensive when the hotshot's around," her eyes slid sideways as she grinned at Poe, "and you were in the way."

"Noted," Finn replied calmly as he felt momentarily intoxicated. It felt like a strange concoction of regulation brew and morphine, and he shook his head to clear away the cobwebs, "Just don't do it again."

"Dee, leave my friend alone," Poe snorted, "and I'm staying sober tonight, thank you very much."

"Really?" she grinned slyly, "With your record, I'm a little surprised you didn't make the jump at the Jedi you bagged."

"Oh come on, you know my rule."

"Which one?"

"#9."

"Always pay in advance?"

"No! That's #8. #9 is don't steal your friend's girlfriend. The clause to that is don't sleep with married women."

"You break that rule all the time."

"Not knowingly! Besides, I ain't in the mood to getting pancaked, just ask my droid."

"Oh, so you're saying your droid has more game than you? That make sense."

"Oh for the love of everything good and holy, would you two just get a room!?" an older Duros growled from the back, the annoyance in his voice emphasized by the long jagged scar that ran from the edge of his eye to the corner of his mouth, which seemed to blaze like fire for a scan't moment.

"I swear, if we'd acted you yuppies with yer wishy-washy feelin's and ain't feelin's, we'd never have won over the Empire in the first place!"

"Oh give it a rest, old timer," Dee shook her head as she sat back in her seat, "let me guess, you're going to regale us with oh you single handedly took down that Super Star Destroyer over Jakku?"

"If it means beatin' some sense in your thick, carefree skulls, I'll do it a hundred times! What with you ungrateful brats sittin' on yer grandpappies laurels!"

"I actually wouldn't mind hearing about that," Finn admitted.

"No please, don't get him started," the third pilot built like a barrel with a 5 o'clock shave snorted, "he'll go on till we're about ready to hop into a grave. I damn near had the temptation to ram you that one time. Good thing BB-8 did it for me."

"Bah," the Duros snorted, "you youngin's will be the death of me. Perhaps Lady Fate gets a kick out of seeing you torture me with your imbecility."

"Now now, don't put your brain into overdrive with your sophisticated vocabulary, grandpa. You might get aneurysm."

"Snap, go exactly 50 yards out and stop. I want to use that fat head of yours for target practice."

"You couldn't hit the broadside of an _Executor-_ Class, Lu'lu. Believe me, I know. I was there on Jakku."

"Wanna bet, you six-foot piece of lard?"

"I bet 50 you miss and he dies anyway!" Dee laughed before Poe shook his head.

"And this is what happens when I'm gone for like five minutes. The misfits are all out to kill each other."

"Sounds familiar," Finn nodded, his eyes dimming for a moment.

"Anyhow, grandpa over here is Lu'lu, our resident grumpy hardass."

"And proud," the Duros smirked, "someone has to keep you yokkel jokers from doin' something stupid, like surfing a Destroyer's deck plate like you were on some fool beach. And yes, that did happen."

"Uh huh. And fathead over there-"

"Hey!"

"What, it's true. This is Temmin Wexley. We call him Snap."

"Why do you call him that?" Finn asked.

"Cause over Bilbringi when we were fighting some two-bit pirates, he went into a space-rage and started chasing them around the system!" Dee grinned from ear to ear as Snap grew red in the face.

"I did not chase them around the system. I chased them around the planet."

"And chased is the wrong word," Lu'lu smirked wolfishly, "more like you rammed everything that wasn't X-shaped **and** you used our comms as your own personal vent machine. I think you invented an entire dictionary of insults that day."

"They insulted my mother," Snap glowered, his face on the verge of exploding as he forced himself to sit down, "would you have not done the same?"

"Probably, but I wouldn't have threatened to have ripped their bollocks off, cook them gently with your ships engines, stuff them right back where the sun doesn't shine until they vomit them out of their mouths again."

Finn chuckled to himself, "So, you're Snap because you snapped? Nines might've actually like you."

"Nines?" Snap asked, "What's his story? He got nine shots every trip to the bar?"

"No, nothing like that. His designation was FN-2199."

"Oh, that's just boring," Dee snorted.

"Ma'am, be glad he's not here. He may not kill you, but he would make Snap blush with his insults, and believe me, they come in paragraphs. Then he'd probably kill you and everyone else, probably while laughing."

"Well, surely not me?" Dee said with mock innocence.

"You're a Reb, aren't you?"

"Reb?" Lu'lu laughed, "Is that what they call us?"

"Yes," Finn nodded, "they don't consider the New Republic as legitimate and just see you as a continuation of the Rebel Alliance."

"Well then to answer your question," Dee replied certainty, "I am and proud."

"Then yes, you would die too."

"Charming," Dee nodded "But I guess that depends on whether or not he'd join you in your betrayal. I mean, if one of you could do it..."

Finn's eyes hardened at the suggestion but then he just shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know about Nines, he liked killing Rebs too much. Zeroes never would in a million years, but maybe Slip. Maybe," he sighed, slumping into the nearest available chair with a face awash with raw pain.

"I'm guess his nickname has a bit of a hilarious backstory," Snap gestured, hoping to change the conversation, "Slip, I mean."

That actually did the trick, and he smiled softly. "He was enemies with all wet surfaces, and I mean all wet surfaces. He would even slip on wet sand if put to it."

"Hold on," Lu'lu grunted, "how does a guy as clumsy as that become a Stormtrooper? I mean, if you're the standard to go off of…"

"Slip was not **that** clumsy," Finn suddenly snorted, his tone sharp as he glared at the older Duros, "he was a perfectly capable soldier, one of the bravest I ever met," he then broke into a smirk, "besides that's the story we tell everyone. The real reason is because Nines messed with his boots and by the time he figured it out, nobody believed him."

"Well, I see you inherited yer grandpappies needless cruelty. Why'd we take in the buckethead, again?"

"Should we apply that logic to you, considering Snap over there?"

"Hey, keep me out of this," Snap raised his hands defensively, "I just came her to lose my months pay to the poster boy over there."

"You damn yellow-belly," Lu'lu growled, "runnin' away when the fire gets hot? What are you, Admiral Jonston?"

"I would suggest you tread carefully, sir," Finn grunted, "only us 'bucketheads' get to use that joke."

"Oh, so now yer claimin' history, huh? Sounds familiar."

"Not at all, we just want the rights to make fun of him and his Bravely-Running-Away strategy."

"Except we're the ones who made him bravely run away," Lu'lu grinned, "so I have equal claim to that joke."

"I do not see Admiral Ackbar or his forces here. I just see a washed up leather jacket two days from retirement."

"At least I don't have a convenient conscience."

"Alright, if mothers start getting mentioned, I'm outta here," Snap cut in, "y'all know how I-"

"Your mother," Dee grinned from ear to ear, and that instantaneously Snap's head redden like a tomato.

"Take that back, Dee."

"I didn't even say anything."

"I know, but you were thinking something. This is a preemptive take it back before I flip this table over."

"Guys, c'mon," Poe cut in, "I brought my friend here to show him the ropes with Sabacc. Don't have much else to do till he gets the a-okay to move around, and I'm allowed back in the cockpit. So, could we please not flip tables or pull blasters or anything else like that?"

That made Finn smirk, "Poe, you boasted that after we escaped the First Order, you would take a long vacation that involved beaches, women and drink. Yet here you are, given mandatory leave, and yet you're complaining about not getting back into the cockpit after just getting out of it."

"Buddy, does this look like a beach planet to you?" Poe grinned sardonically as he took his seat, "And no offense, but the booze here kinda… sucks? I mean, it ain't bad, but it aint vacation rated, either."

"And what about the women?" Dee asked with a sly grin.

"That's a no-go either. Every single gal here breaks at least one of my rules, so I'm kinda stuck."

"Rules-asmancy," Lu'lu snorted, "you make things needlessly complicated. Problem with you youngins. You-"

"Never learned when to stow it?" someone said behind them in a thick drawl. The pilots and one Stormtrooper turned to find a Ranger bearing down on them, accustomed more like some backwater sheriff especially as he wiggled his grayed handlebar at them, "if y'all are chattin' like a storm, then you Mr. Lu'lu are the eye of it."

"And just who the hell are you?" Poe demanded.

"I'm the guy the Boss had tail you for the past," he held up his watch, "2 hours and 34 minutes since you left that interrogation room. I'd gladly like my time back, but since that ain't gonna happen, I'll take y'all's money instead."

"Challenge accepted," Poe grinned, "pull up a seat, we were about to get started."

"Your funeral," Snap muttered, "just glad it ain't gonna be you I'm losing my pay to."

"Sure sure," Poe leered as he turned back to the Ranger, "so, what's your name, Mr. Tailer?"

"Wyatt," the Ranger grumbled as he took a seat. Dee started laughing out of nowhere.

"Wyatt? That's your name? Flippin' Wyatt?"

"Why the Nine Hells is that so funny, Pink-skin?"

"C'mon, a cattlepoke like yourself going by the name of Wyatt? That's a little stereotypical, isn't it?"

"Bit funny considerin' your last name is Blue. You don't look too blue to me, and your hair don't count. That's just a shade of black."

"What can I say? My parents were funny. Plus, one of my great-grandparents was apparently a Twi'lek."

"That's actually kinda funny, missy. You wouldn't happen to have tentacles somewhere, would you?"

"I'm not telling. Alright, shall we deal in?"

"Deal in?" Finn asked.

"Dee is gonna be our card handler while playing," Poe explained, "every round, she'll deal us a set of cards. Remember what values you needed?"

"23 and -23, or 0 if I get an Idiot's Array."

"Don't count on the Array, kiddo," Wyatt replied, "only one of us is gettin' it tonight, and it ain't gonna be you."

"He's right, it won't be you. It'll be me."

The crack of the Caridian's parade ground voice caused everyone to stir in their seats to face the speaker… all except for one. Poe's face visibly paled like a ghost as he slumped into his seat.

"Too soon… too soon," he spoke so softly that only Finn heard him.

"Merrick," Lu'lu chuckled as he rose to his feat with a hearty smile, extending his hand, "why aren't you dead yet, ya ugly shine-head?"

"Why aren't you, you snot-faced son of a mynok?" Merrick grinned back, shaking the man's hand.

"You see this face? Death's not interested in it."

"Well, for once we agree on something. Might if I hop on? I realize this is an officer's table, but-"

"I'm not an officer," Wyatt cut in with a wry grin, "but it wouldn't be the first time you Republic boys break your own rules."

"Will that be before or after I break you and take your money? I'll gladly do it on principle after that little slight."

Wyatt nodded as he chuckled to himself, "I like you, Sergeant. Now I see where the poster boy's sass comes from. Sins of the father an' all that."

"Now that's two slights I need to put you down for, Ranger," Merrick grinned nastily, "and you just made this personal."

"Oooh, scary!" the Ranger waved his hand mockingly as Poe groaned in his seat.

"Look, can we cut the chatter and get to playin'? I'm tired of just sitting here."

The senior non-com nodded simply, taking his seat between Snap and Lu'lu, "Of course, Poe. Deliah, if you may?"

She nodded, and started passing out the hands. Finn looked sideways; the resemblance was unmistakable. Of course, there were differences. His nose and chin were a little wider, his skin a bit fairer and his hair cropped down to almost nothing. But the rest of the features were there.

Merrick met Finn's eyes for a moment, the steely intensity of them instantly reminding him of Phasma and even the Admiral. It was the kind of venerable, seen-everything and killed-everything glace that drew both respect and fear in equal measures. This wasn't just the look of a veteran, Finn realized, but instead a lifer. Soldiering was his life, not just his profession.

 _Is that why Poe was averting his eyes, avoiding the older Dameron's gaze?_ The question occupied his mind and made the next several minutes of card shuffling and sabacc-faces pass like a blur. He didn't even notice the value of his cards changed until Merrick pointed it out to him.

"Gotta watch out for that, son. Sabacc cards are treacherous if you hold 'em too long. If you wanna hold the value, gotta put 'em flush on the table."

Finn nodded, not really paying attention. "Sir, may I ask a question?"

"I'm not an officer, Trooper," he replied gruffly, "but go ahead."

"What are you doing here?"

That question raised a few eyebrows. "I like Sabacc," Merrick replied, "does that answer your question?"

"Not what I meant," Finn replied, "Poe informs me you're supposed to be on Hosnia. Is that correct?"

The Sergeant Major's eyes went to Poe, who looked back and shrugged, "It's a reasonable question."

"Aye, it is. Officially I am, at least."

"And unofficially?" Finn probed.

"Well, let's just say the Colonel owed Antilles a favor, who in turn owed **your** boss," he pointed over at Wyatt, "so, here we are. A platoon of lifers sent here for babysitting duty."

"Careful," Wyatt grunted, "I'm about to steal your money. How much is still up in the air."

"It's still babysitting duty," Merrick grinned wryly.

"Why?" Finn asked, "Why all this secrecy and backdoor favors? Why exactly isn't the Republic helping around here in a more official capacity? Why do you have to falsify transfer orders to be here?"

"Blame the suits on Chandrila," Lu'lu snorted, "buncha spineless moneybags that can be bought fer the right price."

"It's more than that, Lu'lu, and you know it," Snap countered darkly, "it ain't the galaxy's fault that they're tired of fighting. I mean, two galactic shattering conflicts happening within a generation of each other? You may like fighting, but some people just wanna live their lives."

"Well I'd say they need to stop being squeamish," Lu'lu shot back, "sometimes, you gotta bloody a few noses to keep what ya earned, lest ye get put back under heel."

"Spoken like a man who's never known peace," Merrick shook his head, "or the effect it has on people. I lived through the Clone Wars and believe me, the galaxy rejoiced when it finally ended."

"I fight so me little ones and their little ones don't have to. That's my peace."

"So did we, Lu'lu. That was why people were willing to accept the Empire in first place, and why they fought for it after. To many, it was a better alternative than being trampled by clankers or being abandoned by their government."

"Before or after they betrayed their greatest defenders?" Wyatt replied from over his hand, "People so hellbent on peace, they willin' to betray their own for it, and sacrifice their liberty likewise."

"No disrespect to Luke and his Order, Wyatt, the man was a good friend. My wife bloody well flew him and his posse halfway around the galaxy in those early days. But the old Order didn't exactly make it easy for people to mourn them."

"That's 'cause folk couldn't be bothered get off their laurels to learn about 'em. Instead, they were all too willin' to follow the word an' testament of a man who'd been in office for far too long and broke the Force-damn constitution to do it."

"Hindsight is Twenty/Twenty," Finn interjected, "I may not have lived through the war or even the one after, but I've seen the power of fear and what it can do."

"I take it from all the people you've killed in the name of an Empire you don't even know?" Lu'lu deadpanned.

Finn let the backhanded comment roll off his back, though Poe glowered at Lu'lu. "Back the hell off, old man. I wouldn't be here without him."

"It's fine, Poe," Finn told him, "I was actually talking about my time on Parnassos, fighting against and learning from the tribes there."

"I take it they ain't friendly folk?" Wyatt commented.

"Imagine tribes of cannibals and scavengers with the capacity to make any technology, no matter how crude, work. Heh, one time, me and my team were cut off from our company and were being hunted by the Bloodguzler tribe-"

"What?"

"They quite literally found out a way to turn human plasma into fuel for their war machines. Imagine our surprise when we stole a truck and found out what we had in the tibanna tank."

The group stared at the trooper for a moment in disbelief, "How in the nine bloody hells did they do that?" Merrick asked for them.

"The power of fear can make one go to whatever lengths to ensure they don't end up on the chopping block… and they practiced some sort of Shamanism."

"Hmm, sounds like some kind backwater application of the Force to me." Wyatt nodded.

"Or they could've been a bunch of daft savages," Merrick snorted, "reminds me of Endor."

"You fought for the Rebellion at Endor," Deliah reminded him.

"Aye, I did. But I never forgave what those little furry bastards did to my former comrades. Those helmets they were using for drums? Why do you think I didn't try the stew?"

"The Princess stopped 'em from doin' all that, Merrick," Lu'lu chuckled, "I should know, I was there. The little wookie-cousins were beggin' hard."

"It's not just that," Merrick sighed, "I still remember what happened at Bunker-41. All those poor sods strung up like trophies just to torture the last trooper barricaded in that bunker. Lad was so stirken he practically begged us to take him away from there."

"Heh, I guess ya have somewhat of a point," Lu'lu muttered, "but considering what the Empire did to them and the galaxy, can you blame them?"

"Two wrongs don't make a right," Wyatt countered, "at some point, the line in the sand needs to be drawn or else folks will get it in their minds to keep on doin' worse. Cycle of violence is never pretty."

"Not to mention the fact the New Republic," Finn refrained from saying 'you', "tried, convicted and executed Grand Admiral Osvald Teshik for crimes against civilization, despite doing nothing of the sort."

"C'mon, the man was a grand admiral," Snap shot back, "you don't get that high up without getting dirty, especially under Palpatine. Only problem was the man was careful."

"He was one of the first of twelve appointed to the position when the Empire started," Finn deadpanned, "he did nothing to the galactic citizenry like you claim he did."

"Except that's the problem. Palpatine appointed the man to the job."

"I have to disagree with that logic, Snap," Merrick put in, "just because the dead Emperor appointed a man to a job like that doesn't mean you can do whatever you want to him, including executing him on trumped up charges. There's a reason that entire trial was controversial."

"The Jedi opposed it from day one," Wyatt replied, "but the Senate wanted a piece of meat, an' the guy happened to be in our custody. All it did was provide the Remnants even more reason to come after us."

"I can see why the warlords defied you for so long, if that's the reward for surrender," Finn pointed out, but Lu'lu scoffed.

"Tell that to Bail Organa and the people of Alderaan. They didn't even get a trial."

Finn shook his head, "You executed the worst possible person, and last I checked, Tarkin paid for his in full."

"And what about Thrawn?" Dee replied evenly, "He's a grand admiral, and he was appointed the rank after effectively driving the Mon Calamari into exile. Yet, we let him go and build his own Empire."

"Politics, dear," Wyatt grumbled, "Thrawn offered to leave the conflict, and we were at our lowest point in the war. By the time of Endor, the ol' blue skin was too entrenched to go anywhere, and we got enough enemies as it is."

"I just hope he stays that way," Merrick sighed, "I fought under the man once or twice. If we have to face him, it'll be a tough bout we're not walking well away from."

"I thought the New Republic had an alliance with the Empire of the Hand," Finn pointed out, "especially since the Ssi-Rook Wars."

"The key word is had," Lu'lu pointed out, "and that was 'cause of some crazy redblade clone who started up some droid foundry in the Unknown Regions, not just 'cause of lizard men. No, it's always been a matter of convenience, and a non-aggression pact is about the biggest convenience you can get."

"Besides that, the blue skin is the type who will side with the best party for his own goals." Snap muttered.

"He has his reasons," Merrick reasoned, "his loyalty is to his people first, so he'll damn well choose the best side."

"And you gotta admit," Wyatt added, "the New Republic's political climate leaves a lot to be desired. Especially since we can't damn well learn the lesson."

"What lesson?" Finn asked.

"That the Republic only lasted as long as it did 'cause of the Jedi. That we were and are the things that keep back the big bad darkness. Every Force-damn time. An' what do we get for it? A knife in the back when it's convenient."

"Now wait just a sodding moment," Merrick growled, "it's not quite as simple as you say, and if you're trying to argue it otherwise-"

"It really is, soldier boy," Wyatt smiled wryly, "a society don't last 25,000 years against the big bad darkness without help. And yet the Jedi are constantly kicked to the curb regardless."

"First, it was 24,000 years. You can take a thousand off due to another of your Jedi's great schisms."

"The dark age was mired in misinformation. We're not even sure what the blazes happened."

"That's beside the point, Ranger."

"I don't see how 24,000 years is nothing to shake your nose at. The point is the Republic still lasted that long. Look at it now, It can barely tell which way is up. It's mired in as much corruption as the Old Republic before the Empire, and it happened in 10 years as opposed to the 1,000 years for the old Republic."

"I would suggest you retract that last statement if I were you. Unlike the Old Republic, we actually have a standing army loyal to the constitution and not some glorified coppers who can't even enforce a bloody trade law. At least there are some of us still loyal."

"And what happened when they refused to come to the Jedi's aid during the Chimera Crisis, back when we were part of the Republic?"

The Sergeant Major slammed his fist in the table, his face hardening, "You bloody take that back, Ranger. Who do you think allowed your little coup to happen in the first place? And unlike you, our duty is to the Republic."

"Yeah? What happens when the Republic stops givin' a damn 'bout folk like you? When they're to turn on their own for the right price or for some hogwash ideology? Or, even better, for some hollow promise for peace from warmongers that make the Hutts look honest… no offense, Finn."

"If there's proof," Merrick shook his head tiredly, "we'll act on it."

"What are you talking about?" Finn asked.

"He's talking about the First Order ambassador who has the Chancellor's ear," Dee replied.

"Ambassador Hux, you mean?"

"...any relation to Ramius?" Poe asked, his eyes perked up.

"Of course, he's his son."

Wyatt scoffed, "Well, that settles it."

"No it doesn't," Merrick snapped back, "unless there's proof, you can't just go and kick down the man's door. If we cannot abide by the rule of law, then the New Republic's got no purpose to it anymore."

"And it doesn't already?" Wyatt shook his head, "The Chimera managed to snake its way into the government under your damn nose. Just be glad the head of it all is paste on the sidewalk."

"Right. And that was a 'suicide'?"

"It's what the coroner report says. Jumped out a window."

"Sure. Still, without proof, we cannot move."

"Finn?" Poe asked.

"I wouldn't know, I was just a Stormtrooper. Nothing above hearsay." Finn shrugged apologetically, "I wasn't privy to that sort of thing."

"It don't matter," Wyatt scoffed again, "everyone knows it an' everyone's thinkin' it. Borealis damn well sold out the Jedi."

"Again, proof," Merrick sighed, "without it, any action might as well be seen as an invasion from a rogue nation. You relinquished your official status, remember?"

"Oh gimme a break," Wyatt snarled, "we all know the truth, don't we? This frickin' Borealis came outta nowhere, snatched up the Centrists candidacy from folk who should've won, and managed to beat out Lando Calrissian himself in the election."

"They had a Feylia," Lu'lu countered, "the Bothan could charm and pull enough strings to get a Death Star built if he wanted to."

"I'm sorry, but no. Lando should've won, he had all the cards in his favor. He ran the better campaign, had the better constituents and was a frickin' war hero… and yet this guy does it. And no sooner is he elected then the First Order make their appearance."

"No offense, but that sounds like tinfoil talk," Snap replied.

"It's tinfoil till it's genuine. Beside, there ain't no such thing as coincidence. I mean, there weren't even a damn investigation about what happened here, and Leia's attempts to do so got quagmired at every turn."

"The Counselor isn't exactly making the best case," Merrick countered neutrally, "like I said, people are tired of war and Leia is proposing exactly that."

"No, what she's proposin' is that we see the First Order as it is. A buncha hard-ass loyalists that've been hidin' for thirty years and now decided to come out. Also, why stop this investigation? It makes no frickin' sense."

"Well, you're no longer part of the Republic government proper," Deliah shrugged.

"Sure, but we're a sovereign nation that's still an ally. For cryin' out loud, we've had similar cases happen with Aquillans and the Hapes before. They were investigated."

"I agree with you," Merrick sighed exasperated, "but until there's actuable intelligence, getting the whole of the military to move is not going to happen. Not legally anyway. Besides, Borealis may not be the plant you say he is. For all we know, he's just dirty without the strings attached."

"Mebbe, mebbe not. But that needs to be found out, don't?" Wyatt snorted.

"Or worse, he's a peace activist willing to cow tail to the demands of the ambassador," Poe replied.

"You mean like one of those Don Fancy spy-books?" Lu'lu asked, "Man was just an insurance investigator."

"Oh gimme a break, Lu'lu. Wyatt's right about one thing: there ain't no such thing as coincidences. I mean, the ambassador that's got the ear of the Chancellor is the son of the admiral who stood up to Ackbar and didn't die?"

"Not for lack of tryin'," Wyatt grinned, "Rey's daddy took the man's arm 'fore he jumped into an escape pod."

"Wait… you mean to tell me that Rey is the daughter of the Jedi battlemaster?" Finn asked.

"Yup. Same guy who stole the plans of the first Death Star," Wyatt nodded. Poe's face did a double take.

"Wait, her dad is **that** guy!? Why the hell didn't anybody say anything? And don't say because I didn't ask."

"Well, we didn't," Finn shrugged, "still, Councilor Organa-Solo is actually being the most reasonable person in your government. The very fact we're after the Star Forge should clearly state our intentions. It doesn't matter if you don't want war, it's coming to your door regardless."

"Here's a thought," Snap interrupted, "why don't we actually play the damn game?"

"And that right there is the general attitude you people have," Wyatt shook his head tiredly, "you're kickin' the can down the road. That is going to cost lives if your suits in the capital don't get their house in order."

"The New Republic has a better chance than you think," Finn began, "you have a unique balance of decentralized and centralized power, a galaxy's worth of production and a powerful centralized military supplemented by sector defense forces. Even we Troopers know it's going to be a hard fight."

"There's just one problem with that, son," Merrick replied, "the NRA needs to be mobilized into full fighting condition, and that will take a long while even on the best of days. It might even take months. That logic applies doubly so for the SDF's. Hit 'em at once, by surprise? You'll have a good enough chance to blitz us before we give you the boot."

"But how much are we gonna lose before we do give them the boot?" Snap asked, a note of despair in his voice, "Force-damnit. I fought a frickin' war to put down the Empire, and now their frickin' grandkids are gonna kick our teeth. Sith frickin' spit."

"I think you underestimate your SDF's," Finn told them, "If the rumors about Leia Organa-Solo are true, then she's surely up to something."

"She is," Wyatt replied quietly, "real question is whether it's gonna be enough."

"We'll find that out in a couple days," Poe replied, "now can we get on with our game already? I got bills to pay."

"What bills?" Merrick growled.

"Um, I lost an X-Wing, remember? I gotta pay for that!"


	35. Chapter 28 - Confessions

**Chapter 33 - Confessions**

* * *

 **Takodana**

 **The Jedi Temple**

* * *

The calm evening night settled into something of a soothing balm amidst the flowing reports of violins stringing their soft chorus in tandem with the soft chirping and hoots of the wildlife baying to the approaching moon. Moments later, the soft soprano of an operatic Twi'lek slowly uplifted the theatre house, rising in tandem with the growing chorus of the accompanying orchestra playing to the Ryl tale of loss, tragedy and redemption.

Skillfully, the beautiful singer captured the hearts and ears of all those witnessing the broadcast, her splendid radiant cornflower form contrasted sharply as the camera panned from left to right, bringing the gas giant of Yavin into the foreground. Slowly, the chorus increased its pace, the soprano growing in conjunction almost to the point of cracking.

Yet, the veteran of the form kept a slow and careful pace to her voice, the twists of her tale reflected in the changing patterns of her vocals. She reached her hands up to the heavens, falling to her knees as the story reach its zenith of grief, the singers' eyes even coming to close to tears as she swept herself back to her feet in one smooth motion.

Now the scraping of the violins increased; a chase in the underworld and her voice soon matched this sudden pace with an equal sudden snap of her vocals. The recording suddenly stopped.

"Oh come on!" Jacen Shrike, Commandant of Antarian Rangers, exclaimed bitterly; unintentionally biting down too hard on his pipe and coughing up dragonsfire in a splutter, "Why'd you stop? It was getting interesting!"

"Vraiment?" a Ryl voice asked from his elbow, "You didn't notice at all?"

Jacen grunted, swinging his chair over to look at the holographic projection of the same singer sitting in the chair across from him. "Notice what exactly?"

"The pitch was wrong, mon amour," she snorted, slamming her fist into the armchair, "it sounded horrible!"

"So you say," Jacen grinned as he took another puff of his pipe, "it sounded fine to me."

"Yes well, my worst still sounds wonderous to you. Jacen, please be objective."

"Cheri, I am being objective… as much as someone who can't sing can be. Look, I've heard you string tales written by plebeians into something spectacular. That's your gift."

"A gift is only as good as one continues to sharpen it," she smiled, "you would know this. What, with you always digging around in other people's business."

"Yeah well, you were there for half of it, Aya," Jacen grinned back, burying the smoke in his lungs with a shot of Gaelan Scotch.

"So any luck with that horrible book?" she asked, shifting her position slightly in her chair, resting her chin on her arms.

"Yeah," he sighed, "got tired though. Why do you think I called you up from Ruusan?"

"Oh? I thought you just missed me?" she said with a playful heartache.

"Who says I don't? I just don't like reading through the testimonies of a bunch of egotistical, genocidal pseudo-philosophers."

"Oh come now, you've certainly read through the works of egotistical, genocidal pseudo-philosophers before."

"Not pseudo-philosophers. Okay, fine. Grakkus the Hutt was one, but he didn't have concept of actually puttin' his drivel to pen. Kinda glad he didn't, his writing would probably make me puke."

"I'll take that over his arena of rancors, ackleys and reeks, oh my."

"Nah, that's just straight forward. These guys, though? Trying to decipher their drivel is like pulling teeth from a wookie."

"You don't seem to be missing any arms though."

"Oh har har har. Don't get me started on the supplemental notes. At least with the main edition, our gloriously-murdered ex-galactic monarch had the good sense to only put down what was relevant."

"Oh, so he did achieve some good, then?"

"Yeah, well that's ruined by him being like every other schmuck and putting footnotes in the actual book like some pampered college brat."

"Oh, here we go," she sighed dramatically, "you on and on about people putting their horrible thoughts down in that horrible book. Surely, it gives insight into the horrible minds of horribles bâtards."

"Aya, you try and read through Vader's self-righteous crap about needin' to burn down the Temple to save lives. Uggh, at least Ahsoka had the good sense to put her own thoughts below his and call it what it is. Y'know, that's actually the worst part about these folks."

"Their sanctimonious belief that they are absolutely right?" she grinned salaciously, "Come now, mon amour, at least they're not monologing."

"Aya, they are monologing. It might as well be the prepared speech the big bad baddie says at the end of a bad holo-flick. Y'know, speeches with cold calculations about order and needing to put down the weak, and yada yada yada," he snorted with another drink, "drivel. Tells you something, don't it?"

"Oh, that they lack imagination? That they're lives are miserable, and their childhoods terrible? Please, I had a miserable life and a terrible childhood, and here I am."

"Yeah well, you're different, Aya. Actually know how to move on and focus on what's important in life."

"Oh?" she grinned slyly, inching slowly forward in her chair, "And what is important in my life, husband?"

"That you're a fine singer, and you don't need to beat yourself over it."

"Ha. And what about you?" her face suddenly grew uncharacteristically dour, "I heard about what happened to Lor San."

"Yeah," he answered in a soft whisper, downing the rest of the scotch, "another body bag."

"Jacen," she soothed, her holographic hand touching his arm, "what happened to the professor was not your fault."

"Tell that to the dead, Aya. Lor San was on that planet because I put him there. And this?" he gestured his hands all around the aged stone of the Temple, "This is my doing. All of it."

"It's not simple, and you know it, mon amour. We were placed in a bad place where the only way out was through worse. You know this."

"No excuse," he closed his eyes and pulled his pipe from his mouth before he had the urge to bite into it again, "never is."

She nodded sadly, "Have you thought about what you're going to say to Han?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "and he's standing right behind me."

The Twi'lek spun in her chair, and there he was, looking expectantly at the two of them from the archway. She nodded softly and offered a kiss on her husband's cheek. He smiled at her, his craggy face becoming hard in that moment. "Thanks. See you soon, Cheri," and then she was gone.

"So," the spy-master called, "how long were you standing there?"

"Long enough," Han replied, "where's my son?"

"If I had to guess, probably looking for us right now."

There was an uncomfortable silence that followed; like a lead weight bearing down on the room. Jacen didn't bother turning around as Han's footsteps echoed over the cobblestone, coming to stare out at the forest below.

"How long?" Han asked, his voice unreadable in that moment.

"Since Antiga, he volunteered to infiltrate the red blades ranks after Master Tano was killed and Kali went missing."

That made Han spin around, his eyes suddenly hard and venomous like a coiling snake. "And you sent my boy in there, alone?"

"I didn't send him, Han," Jacen shook his head, "he went alone, right after his master's funeral. He told me to expect communications from him."

"And you let him," Han growled, "you let my son go into a rancor pit, and you didn't even try to stop him."

"Han, he's a Skywalker **and** a Solo. You really expect me to stop him from doin' something he was hellbent to do?" he shook his head, "But you're right, I didn't try to stop him."

Han leaned against the bannister, his right hand going to his belt as his face contorted into a barely controlled snarl. "Why him?" he managed evenly.

"Because I didn't have any other alternative, Han," Jacen replied, rising to his feet and carefully moving away from the chair, "because we've been playing catch-up for the past thirty years and our enemies have at most a sixty year head start."

"You said 'I,'" Han interrupted, "did you sanction this mission on your own, without the Council's approval?"

Jacen replied was immediate. "Yes, I did. The Council didn't find out until after, just before the attack here happened."

Han stared at him for a long moment, his eyes a mixture of confusion, disbelief and then rage. Han Solo was the quickest draw in the galaxy, and that translated into the blur of motion that saw the Commandant slammed against a wall.

"You sent my boy in there alone!" he snarled, his eyes flaring dangerously, "And what? You thought revenge would keep him steady? He isn't one of your little agents, Shrike. He was my son, and you damned him!"

"I know," Jacen replied evenly despite the fact his head was ringing like a drum, "I let your son go to the enemy because I thought it was our one chance to make things right."

"Yeah, and look how that turned out."

He shook his head, "You don't need to remind me. I've accepted the fact that everything that has happened has been my doing. That my best friend is dead because of it. Believe me, I'll carry that to the day I die… and probably after."

Han stared at him for a long moment, unsure of what to do or say. In the end, all he could do was release his lapels and step away. He shook his head, running his hands through his hair as he stared at the floor; his face a million emotions all running at lightspeed.

"So you think he is this… Kylo Ren?" Han barely got it out, "That he betrayed everyone? That he killed Lor San?"

"Yes," he sighed, fixing his coat, "I do. Given Finn's description."

"Why?"

The two men turned to find Rey at the archway, her face on the verge of falling to pieces like a crumbling mirror. Han's heart sank at the sight of her, and he immediately beckoned her over to take her into his arms, but she shook her head.

"Why?" she asked again.

"Why what?" Jacen asked after a moment, "Why Cale murdered Lor San, or why I let him go?"

"Both," she whispered.

"If what Finn said is true, then he gave him a mercy compared to what the First Order would've done to him."

"Mercy?" Han snorted, "You call my son being a murderer a mercy?"

"Yes Han, I do," Jacen suddenly growled, "because I know what these people could do. I've been playing the spy game since before they ran into the Unknown Regions to play dress up. They would've broken him, and if they couldn't, then they would've done worse than a lightsaber to the chest. So believe me, what Cale did was a mercy. As much as it pains me to say that."

"Sure," Han scoff, "coming from the same man who threw the head of Chimera out a window instead of making him stand trial for what he did to the Jedi."

"You still don't get it, you two bit smuggler," Jacen growled, "the man would've walked. We had his entire organization dead to rights, but the bastard was slippery enough to make sure his name and his face was never on anything. Hell, I went there that night with a warrant in my pocket just hoping to get him to crack, and he just laughed. He'd walk, and he'd start the whole thing over again, and there was nothing I nor the law could do about it. So, I did the one thing that nobody, not you and certainly not Luke, would do. He went out the window."

"So what? You just get to decide what's best for everybody? Including sending my boy into a mynok nest full of psychopaths?"

"I didn't send him, Han. I let him go."

"And what did you think was gonna happen? Did it not occur to you what they would do to him? What they would turn him into?"

"Of course I did. I knew the risk. Hell, it took Lor San to convince the rest of the Council not to throw me under the grav-train after they found out."

"So he knew, then?" Han poised, hurt clear in his eyes and clearer in his voice, "Luke knew all along where my boy was?"

"He had nothing to do with it, Han. I made the decision alone because I knew he would never have been able to keep this secret from you or your wife, and I knew that if you two knew, it would compromise him."

"You think I would betray my own son!?" Han snarled, curling his hands into fists.

"Oh for the love of the Force, Han, wake up. We're dealing with an enemy that's had a headstart on us since before the Old Republic fell. They would've found out! I made the hard call because no one else would!"

"That's no excuse. Luke should have made you step down."

"Maybe he still will when this is over."

"How do you know he's not dead?" Rey asked suddenly, imploringly, "How do you know that he and the rest of Council aren't dead? It's been three years now!"

"Rey dear, if the Sith had gotten a hold on them, we would know. Besides, this is Luke Skywalker we're talking about, remember? Until today, I didn't think there was anyone who'd take him on and actually win."

"Today?" she asked, "What do you mean by that?"

"What I mean is this," he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a leatherbound red book that Han almost mistook for a ledger it it weren't for the strange symbol on its cover.

"What is that?" he asked.

"That's…" Rey voice quavered a moment, "that's the book of the Sith, isn't it?"

"Yeah. The Monarch's copy itself. Plus a couple other things Lor San decided to stick in there for simplicity's sake. Luke's wife pulled it from Palpatine's storehouse on Wayland back when she defected to us."

"Palpatine? What's that scrotum face despot got to do with any of this?" Han asked, crossing his arms.

"Everything," Jacen said grimly, gesturing with the book, "it's a collection of the accounts of every grandioused psychopath who ever picked up the title of Darth, Emperor or whatever else they took a fancy to since Marka Ragnos decided to put his thoughts down."

"Oh stars," Rey groaned, "I thought I'd never have to hear his name since that damn cult tried to resurrect him on Korriban."

"Yeah well, you know the saying: evil never dies, it evolves."

"You still haven't answered my question," Han interrupted. Jacen sighed and gestured Rey over, handing her the book.

"Kiddo, do us a favor and turn to page 150. Read the thing that's highlighted."

She nodded, but found the irresistible urge to thumb through the tome first. A dozen terrible names soon came forth. Sorus Syn, Malgus, Bane, Zahanna, Mother Talzin, Plagueis, Sidious, Lumiya; all had something to say within the preserved pages of the book.

She even found a manuscript penned by Darth Vader himself on Kaminoan process paper, and she stopped a moment when she found Master Tano's footnotes scribbled there. At first, she thought it must've been after the book had been taken to the Jedi by Mara. That made sense considering her's, Lor San's and even Luke's own footnotes were also included.

However, she came to a different conclusion as she ran her fingers over the blue ink. It felt older, somehow. She shook her head. Cale's master had never talked about her time under Vader's forced tutelage before she went to hunt down Exar Kun in the Unknown Regions. Reading over the apoplectic espousings of authoritarian rule and the importance of order and loyalty in the galaxy, she wasn't surprised. It practically read like Vader shaking his fist at the Emperor.

"Ahem," she heard Master Shrike cough, "page 150, if you please."

"Sorry," and she flipped to the fifth page of Sidious' first book, _The Weakness of Inferiors._ Under the subtitle _The Useful Bureaucrats_ , she found the highlighted passage and began to read:

"My Master, Darth Plagueis, developed an obsession with midi-chlorians, neglecting his greatest talent-manipulating the strings that kept the galaxy from degenerating into anarchy. As a key figure in the InterGalactic Banking Clan, he was well acquainted with the business leaders and politicians who shaped the very galaxy-yet for all their power, not one of them was recognizable to general citizens."

Han shook his head, "So he was scrotum's master. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Rey, go to page 159. Read the highlighted section there."

She did so, turning to the second page of the third book _The Manipulation of Life._ She began to read aloud:

"I will achieve immortality. Even if I am killed, I will return from the chaos of nonbeing to restored physical life. This, even my Master could not achieve. I knew it was so when I halted his breathing and watched the light vanish from his eyes. He sought the secret of life, to live forever, but I took his life. I remain the ultimate Sith."

Rey's eyes suddenly flashed with understanding, "Are you saying that the leader of the First Order is Plagueis?"

"Not just me," Jacen replied, "Lor San started the research. I just picked it up when he went digging in the desert."

"Now wait just a second," Han interrupted, "first, we have no way of knowing if these two are even the same person. Second, even if he was, he'd have to be, what? Two, three centuries old? Demask is supposed to be a Muun, and even he would ancient by their standards. Third, Palpatine said he killed him."

"You're right. We had no way of proving Hego Demask and Darth Plagueis were one and the same. In fact, all we did know is that he was the head chairman of the Banking Clan prior to the Battle of Naboo, and that all records of him were either destroyed or sealed somewhere we would never find them. Until today, that is."

"Finn's testimony," Rey concluded.

"Yes. That was the final piece of the puzzle. Hego Demask, a former Muun Banker who completely dropped off the proverbial radar only to reappear commanding a secret Empire. Who claims to have been betrayed by Palpatine himself."

"Of which he admits himself," Han nodded, "okay, so how do you explain him coming back to life?"

Rey provided the answer this time, "It's actually here in the book too. Plagueis' own notes about his experiments with midi-chlorian manipulation."

"What kind of experiments?" Han asked, "Also what the hell is a midi-chlorian?".

"Resurrection," Jacen answered, "as for that, well to put it really simply, it's just a microscopic organism that helps us mortals communicate with the Force, as well as being necessary for keeping all life as we know it, well, kicking."

That instantly remind Han of the crazy wizard Ben trying to teach Luke how to deflect blaster bolts on the Falcon. _What was it he had said?_ He wondered, _A Jedi could feel the Force flowing through him?_

He cracked a wry smile, "Uh huh. Wait a minute, are you trying to say that since this guy has the ability to control these things? That he basically has the power over life itself?"

"Got it in one," Jacen nodded, "which brings things to Lor San's theory, and by extension, mine. Palpatine attempts to kill his master, who survives and uses his wealth and influence to go into hiding. Then, I dunno, he gets bored or something, and decides to use that wealth to build his own empire."

"Then what? Gives it to the remnants when they come screaming from Jakku?" Han asked incredulously.

"That is what Finn basically said," Rey countered, "and it explains how the remnant got so powerful in less than thirty years, and where these Knights of Ren come from."

"Yup," Jacen replied wearily, lighting his pipe again, "basically, we've got a machiavellian puppeteer, with super powers to top it off, gunning for us."

Han's eyes narrowed at that moment, "When you let my son go undercover, did you know all this?"

"Some. Like I said, it took Finn's testimony to put the full puzzle together."

Han nodded slowly, his eyes growing cold, "Then you knowingly sent my son into the same situation his grandfather went through. You knowingly damned my son."

"Sure I did," Jacen snorted, "because this bastard has been hounding us since the Battle of Jakku. Hell, probably even before."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Doesn't it seem rather convenient how many things have been out to kill us, seem to happen one after the other? Lumiya's Sith terrorists, the Chimera Crises? A death cult trying resurrect a long dead Sith Lord followed by a war that solidifies Zhan and the Hutt's holdings in the Outer Rim? The War for Antiga?"

"Even the Black Fleet?"

"No," he shook his head, "that was its own thing. The Duscan League was never on good terms with the remnants, and I seriously doubt they'd just loan their fleet of dreadnoughts to some guy they owe no allegiance to."

"Still, I think you get where I'm getting at," Han said incredulously, "one man couldn't do all that."

"Palpatine did. And ironically, it goes right back to the monarch himself."

"How?" Rey asked.

"Right around the time Kanan and his merry band hooked up with us on Jakku, we discovered the Emperor had been murdered."

"By Vader?" Rey asked confused.

"No. Remember how Palpatine said he achieved immortality? He did it by sticking his conscience into clones of himself on the fortress world of Byss."

"Oh come on," Han scoffed, "now you're saying these guys can swap souls?"

"Yes, it's called Essence Transfer, but that's beside the point. Less than a few months earlier, someone went to Byss and killed not only Palpatine, but every single one of his clones. Hell, what was left of the Inquisition thought it was **us** who did it."

"So you think it was Plagueis?" Rey concluded, "The one who killed Palpatine again."

"Dear, there was exactly one other person at the time with the stones to get the drop on Palpatine and that was Luke. He obviously didn't do it."

"So, revenge then?" Han interpreted.

"Maybe. But I think it might've been more so to remove Palpatine from the board, get him out of the way. Good thing too, otherwise we'd be going round two with Sidious. The documents we managed to pull from Byss all talk about something called the 'Dark Empire' and 'Operation Shadow Hand.' No idea what those pertain to, but they don't sound pleasant."

"Foreboding," Han nodded, "maybe when we can thank Plagueis after we kill him."

"Master Shrike, you mentioned earlier that when Cale went under, he started sending you messages. Is he… still doing so?"

Jacen could see the faint glimpse of hope in her eyes, and it pained him to squash it. "No. He stopped almost three months before he betrayed us to the enemy."

"But why?" Han asked, shaking his head, "Why would he betray everyone he ever cared about?"

"I don't know," Jacen sighed, "maybe we never will. Regardless, he's now working for the enemy, and when he eventually finds us, then we need to be ready for him."

"Ready for him?" Han asked accusingly, "This is my son we're talking about."

"Yeah, the very same son who sold us out, and killed a member of the council."

"I thought we just established he did that to keep Lor San from the enemy?"

"He still killed the man," Jacen growled, "he made the choice to cut off communications with me. Why would he do that if he hadn't gone over to the other side?"

"What if…" Rey shook her head, "what if he's still doing his mission? What if he didn't have a choice in the matter? What if he can't contact you?"

"No offense, Knight, but that's a lot of what if's with no proof to back it up."

"He turned the defenses back on."

Han and Jacen looked at her as though she suddenly gone mad. "What are you talking about?" Han asked.

"It's… complicated," she sighed, "Master Shrike, do you remember what Master Tekka said about this place? That the barrier between the material and ethereal planes is much thinner here than almost everywhere else?"

"Yes, but what-oh. I get it."

"What?" Han asked.

"I received a vision," she answered, "I didn't understand it at first. I mean, I saw myself and everyone else back when we were kids. I saw my dad and…" she smiled for a moment before the rest came to be, "then it showed me the attack on the Temple, and I saw Cale."

"When?" Han inquired, urgency heavy in his voice, "You mean when he came to warn you?"

"No. When he shut off the Temple's power grid. He was just sitting there, in the control room watching everything happen."

"And you say he turned it back on?" Jacen concluded, "Why did he do it?"

"To save me," she bit her lip a moment and sighed, "but not just me. Master K'Kruck and Ti were trying to get the younglings out and they were trapped. He… he let us go. I heard him talking to someone, saying," she stopped, trying to remember exactly what he had said, "'I agreed to let you in. I didn't agree to let you butcher them. Besides, our work is done. The Jedi won't be able to stop what's coming.'"

"That doesn't sound like someone who's secretly helping us," Jacen began skeptically.

"It does considering he was talking to someone," Han countered, "and it means he isn't too far gone. If we could find him-"

"What? Talk him out of it?"

"Luke did it with his father, and he'd done far worse by that point."

"Yeah, and he almost died doing it."

"If that's what it takes," Han replied with pure conviction, "I will not abandon my son. Never."

"Han," Jacen sighed and shook his head, resting his forehead against his hand, "I want nothing more than that to be true. I want Rey to be right, and to see that the poster boy is still the poster boy. But we don't know that for sure, and right now there are bigger things at stake."

"There is something else," Rey whispered, "when I was in the control room, we were surrounded by the personnel and staff."

"Dead?" Jacen asked.

"No, alive. Unconscious."

"So he only kills when he has to," Han concluded. "that's not the mark of a cold blooded killer."

"They said the same thing about Anakin, back in the day," Jacen sighed, slumping back into his chair and taking a long drawl from his pipe, "and look where he ended up. Hero with no Fear turned into the Mailed Fist of the Empire."

"Cale is not his grandfather," Rey interjected, "I know he isn't."

"Are you willing to bet your life too, Knight? It may very well come to it."

Rey didn't answer, her eyes sliding to the floor as silent tears ran down her cheeks.

"I wasn't there when the Temple went down," Jacen said after a while, staring out into the wilderness beyond, "the old one, I mean, but I was there for everything after. I was one of the trillions who lived under the tyranny of Sidious, and for years I tried to stay away from the war. From the fight. But I learned a lesson during those years: that evil will triumph when good men do nothing."

He removed his pipe, staring once more at the the inscription at its base. ' _To a friend,'_ it said, and he shook his head, "When Luke asked me to rebuild the Rangers, I made an oath that what happened to the Republic, to the Jedi, would never happen again. That I would do what was necessary, no matter how unseemly, to ensure that another Empire never rose. You asked me why I let your son go, Han. That's why. All I could see was my brother dying so I could live; that everyone I ever cared about being ripped from me because I lacked the will to act."

He shook his head at it all, "So I let your son go, hoping that his lust of vengeance would keep him on the straight and narrow. That maybe, just maybe, we could stamp out the fire of the Sith before it burned the whole damn galaxy down again. But all I did was," he gestured his hand all around, "this."

Han and Rey looked at each other, not sure what to say.

"I'm not asking for sympathy or forgiveness," he turned to face them, his eyes marked with certainty, "I'm asking you to prove me wrong. I'm asking you to be better than me."

"Cale's my son," Han replied, "and whatever it takes, I will get him back. Come Hell or a black hole."

"Hopefully neither," Rey whispered, "I'm tired of losing fathers."

"I'm not going anywhere, kiddo," Han smiled as he placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

"Which brings us ironically to you, Knight," Jacen nodded, "you know your duty now, don't you?"

"Pass on what I've learned."

"The galaxy needs the Jedi, Rey. Everytime we ain't there to pick up the pieces, whole thing comes apart. Now I ain't asking you to start-"

"I already have actually."

"Finn?"

"Yes, and potentially someone else, too."

"I take it you've got a plan in the works?"

"Yes," she smiled simply, "I do."

"Then I'll give the all-clear for Finn to move about without an escort, but I will keep an eye on him."

"Fair enough."


	36. Chapter 29 - The First Lesson

**Chapter 34 - The First Lesson**

* * *

 **Takodana**

 **The Jedi Temple**

* * *

" _The folly of the Empire is something of a misunderstood, understated concept. Many would point to the tremendous political, economic and military blunders that shaped its foundation. The Aquillans quite humorously refer to this idea as 'The Folly of Tarkin.' While I do not disagree with these assertions as they are correct in their own limited ways, they are not the entirety of the Empire's fall. Instead, they are merely the symptoms of the main problem."_

The holographic form of Lor San Tekka paced about the stone auditorium, his younger, fuller face watching over the assemblage of dozens of students watching and listening intently. At the top of it all was Finn, his locked on the ghost from the past as he extended his hand like a professor in a classroom.

" _Can anyone tell me what that commonality was?"_

" _Palpatine,"_ a young girl in the front answered.

" _Yes, Rey, the most infamous man in living memory."_

Finn did a double take, peering down at the girl sitting at the front. She had to have been only twelve or thirteen. A red Twi'lek girl nudge her and she turned her head to stick her tongue out at her. The expression made Finn smile a little.

"We all come from somewhere I suppose… though I never imagined you with freckles."

" _Now Cale, can you explain why he was the cause?"_

Finn's eyes darted left to a pair of boys sitting at the front. One looked about the same age as Rey, his dark brown hair shining through the dull blue tint of the holographic projection. He chuckled awkwardly and shook his head.

" _Cause he was a madman and a control freak?"_

That got a laugh out of the crowd, though the younger boy sitting next him elbowed him sharply and gave him a stern look. Aside from some differences, namely his fiery red hair and more rounded appearance, Finn could tell they were related.

" _Well, that's a more general answer,"_ Lor San chuckled as he gestured to the red haired boy, " _Ben, can you make up for your cousin and provide us with a more… detailed answer?"_

" _Of course, Master Tekka."_ Ben nodded. Before he began, Finn saw Cale mouth something like 'teacher's pet,' before a blond girl directly behind him swatted him over the head. He gave her a 'hey!' look, but then promptly sat back down as Ben began his answer.

" _Palpatine wanted absolute control of the galaxy, sure, but that wasn't enough for him. He wanted more. He wanted to be god with a galaxy to worship him. If that galaxy didn't wanna, then he would destroy it."_

" _And did this extend to the Empire itself, young Skywalker?"_ Lor San asked with a smile.

" _I would say so, yes. I mean, what happened when he died? The whole thing fell apart. Palpatine never intended to die, and I think that if he did, he wanted to make the rest of the galaxy pay for it."_

" _So like I said,"_ Cale interrupted, " _a mad man and a control freak. Might have something to do with him looking like a melted candle."_

That earned another laugh. Across from him, another boy with a rather gelled spiky hair shot back.

" _C'mon, he can't be that bad. I heard the guy had something like a hundred wifes. Can't be that bad looking."_

" _You're gross, Rosh!"_ The Twi'lek girl exclaimed.

" _Really, Kali? I'm just stating a fact here!"_

" _Yeah, well you're stating a gross fact!"_

" _Oh geez, here we go,"_ the boy next to Rosh groaned, running his hands through his cropped hair, " _why don't you just kiss and get it over with?"_

" _Ew, you're even grosser, Jaden!"_

" _Well, it's true! Ever since we got back from Ruusan to get our lightsaber crystals, you've been all googly eye for him!"_

" _Wait, what?"_ Rosh asked, confused.

Cale just laughed. " _It's official. You've now taken Ben's place as being hopeless, Rosh-ow! Stop doing that, Tahiri!"_

" _Yeah Tahiri, please stop hitting my cousin!"_ Ben chided in.

" _Only when he stops being a blockhead, Red,"_ the blond grinned.

" _Ahem,"_ Tekka coughed and everybody immediately shut up, " _now, what Rosh pointed out is a term called Hypergamy. Ask your parents what that means."_

" _It means the act of marrying up,"_ Rey deadpanned.

" _Of course you'd know what that means, freckles!"_ Cale grinned across from her, " _I wager you get a whole lot of experience from the Sand People."_

" _Careful, flyboy,"_ Rey returned the gesture with a nasty look in her eyes, " _I've been learning to punch Krayt Dragons lately."_

" _No, you've been punching baby dragons lately. Should we try you for a crime against nature?"_

" _Should we try you for breaking the laws of humor with your sarcasm?"_

" _How about I put you both over my knee and let you have a shared, painful experience to bond over?"_ Tekka fauzed growled, his fingers reaching showfully for his lightsaber.

Both kids immediately gulped. " _No thanks, master."_

" _Thank you dearly. Now children, allow me to ask you both a simple and complicated question. Why?"_ he looked around the room, " _Can anybody answer me that?"_

Cale raised his hand, " _Are you asking why he was a madman and a control freak?"_

" _Yes, I am."_

" _Because he was evil,"_ Kali spat, " _and sometimes, there are people who are born evil."_

" _I suppose there is a great deal of truth to that, if being born a psychopath can be considered evil."_

" _But you don't?"_ Rey asked.

" _Not entirely. There are millions of psychopaths born every day, and not all of them run over bystanders with a landspeeder just for fun. Oh, and at the ripe age of sixteen, I should mention."_

" _That's not too much older than one of us,"_ Jaden sighed.

" _Wait a second,"_ Rosh exclaimed, " _if he runs off people for fun, how the Nine Corellian Hells did he end up in politics?"_

" _Money, Rosh,"_ Kali replied with an edge to her tone, " _men like that always have a helping hand from the powerful. Hence why justice is never served."_

" _It's a little more complicated than that, Kali,"_ Tekka said, " _His father bailed him out, and the court cases were expunged."_

" _How does that disprove my point, exactly?"_ Kali snorted, " _Credits talk."_

" _I'm not sure your dad would agree,"_ Tahiri replied, but the Twi'lek shook her head.

" _Considering that he must work beyond the confines of the law of stupid men? I doubt that."_

" _It is true,"_ Tekka admitted, " _bureaucracy and the laws of men can be a hard thing to follow, and is often corrupt. This in a way is why the Jedi exist. For generations, we have served as negotiators, mediators, explorers and, more often than not, the true hand of justice."_

" _But that wasn't always true, though,"_ Ben pointed out, " _in the Clone Wars, they were soldiers and generals."_

" _You are unfortunately correct, Ben."_ Tekka sighed, " _it has happened many times when the Jedi strayed from their ideals, to serve the whims of the corrupt."_

" _Um, no offense, but should we be speaking ill of them?"_ Rey interrupted, " _I mean, half the members of our Order were survivors of the Purge."_

" _They would be the first to admit that they lost their way,"_ Tekka replied, " _besides, offering criticism from an historical analysis is not speaking ill. The Jedi of the previous generations were caught in a bind where the only out was forward."_

" _And we know how all that turned out,"_ Cale replied, " _who's to say that won't happen again?"_

" _Yes, and in a way it did. The Chimera Crises taught us that the Jedi cannot be bent to the representatives of the people, but of the people themselves."_

" _Sure, but what happens when the people hate us? When they get scared of us?"_

" _Should they have a reason to?"_ Rey countered, " _We're supposed to protect people."_

" _I'm not denying that, but let's look at some facts here. We're a minority of people who can do what other people can't. How do people react to that?"_

" _We already know that,"_ Jaden replied, " _I mean, look at the Rangers. They ain't like us, but they still go to bat for us."_

" _Not everybody is like them, though. The Chimera were afraid of us, afraid of what we could do. And doesn't fear lead to anger, and anger to hate?"_

" _Let's not forget they tried to justify it with their narrow view of history,"_ Ben shrugged his shoulders, " _I mean, what happens when there aren't Jedi to fight their battles for them?"_

" _Yeah, never mind the fact that if it wasn't for the Jedi, their ancestors would likely be a pile of bones, or speaking Sith or Mandalorian."_ Rosh added.

" _But do they care?"_ Cale concluded, " _Or is their fear of us all there is?"_

" _Does that matter?"_ Rey countered, " _Does that change the fact that we have a job to do?"_

" _I'd say so, yeah. Should we protect people who'd rather toss us aside at the first opportunity?"_

" _But If we start thinking like that, where does it stop? How do we not end up like Lumiya or others like her? How does that not make us any different than the Sith?"_

" _Never assume that all thoughts lead to action,"_ Lor San smiled, " _it takes will to both act on impulse and to not act on it at all, and ultimately it is harder to forgive than to hate. But that is the fundamental difference between the Sith and us. We are willing to take the harder path because it is right."_

" _But why is it right?"_ Cale asked.

" _A fair question. Let me tell you a story: there was a young man heading out from the city of Delphi. He had many gifts of divine power and wisdom, but he didn't quite know what to do with them. Then along the road he came to a fork going in two directions."_

He gestured with his left hand, " _Along this route, he saw a well lit path where he could have all he ever wanted: wealth, women, a life of ease, and the power of fate over other men. But he looked to the end of that road, and do you know what he saw? He saw himself. Old, broken, miserable and alone. Clinging desperately to a life he never had until he fades away to dust to be forgotten."_

He gestured with his right, " _So he looked the other way, and at first he thought he saw nothing different. It was a cold and treacherous path with many dangers and obstacles. But he looked further, and he saw a life of peace and contentment. Not just for himself, but for all others around him. He saw people care for him and what he did, remembering him for all the good he had done in through the hardships. And yes, he would die, but not alone and never forgotten."_

He then gestured all around them, " _And that my children, is why the Sith fail. Why they shall always fail. I asked you why Palpatine was the way he was, and yes, your answers were correct. However, they missed a key part to it. What honed Palpatine's madness into something truly dangerous? What made him the greatest evil of our time?"_

" _The Sith,"_ Ben answered.

" _The Sith,"_ he nodded, " _in the thousands of years that they have existed, they have never changed. They have remained the same expression of extreme emotion. Beings where unchecked ambition and selfishness guides them. Where vanity, envy and the lust for things they cannot have drives them. Of course, the methods may change, but the idea does not. And this is why the Sith will always fail."_

" _But they keep coming back,"_ Tahiri pointed out, " _we thought the Sith died with Palpatine, but then Lumiya came after us."_

" _Yes, because evil is a constant. It cannot die, for it is the shadow to the light. Thus, why the Jedi are needed. There will always be evil just like there will always be good. However, evil is not sustainable. Look at the Old Sith Empire. A powerful collection of Sith and their proxies that nearly saw them victory against the galaxy, and yet they failed. Why?'_

" _Because they are not sustainable,"_ Rey replied, " _they turned on each other."_

" _Yes, because they are fueled by such base emotions that it overrides their common good. Things like love, joy and compassion are such alien things to them because these are things that must be created and given, not taken. The Sith cannot build, not really. They conquer and ravage, but that is all. Just like Palpatine's Empire. It too conquered and ravaged, but it tore itself apart just as soon as Palpatine was bested."_

" _You would think that there would have been reformers to reform Sith Society?"_ Ben pointed out.

" _Oh, there were many would-be reformationists. They were either stamped out, or ended up joining the Jedi."_

" _Why?"_ Cale asked.

" _Because the Sith are like a cancer. You see, the Sith rely on conflict to survive. When there is no more conflict, they create it among themselves. They cannot survive in peace. To change this is to completely unroot the entire concept of the Sith and fundamentally alter it. That my friends, is impossible to do."_

" _Impossible, master? I thought you didn't believe in such a word."_

" _I may be a bit hyperbolic, but it is ultimately their adherence to the Darkside that undoes them."_

"Whachya doing?"

Finn turned around to find Rey standing at the entrance of the auditorium with a smile on her face, "Oh, I remember this class. Master Tekka's big ol' talk about the Sith."

"Yes," Finn nodded as she descended the steps to join him. He shook his head, "I… wanted to know who he was. Who he really was, I mean."

"Master Tekka?"

He nodded, and Rey noticed then that he was clutching Lor San's lightsaber. "It's funny, really," he said suddenly.

"What is?"

"That I was among those sent to capture him. That I was party to the battle that took his life, and yet I hold this," he held out the lightsaber, "I hold a symbol of his status, of his greatness. I feel dirty doing so, but no one has taken it from me yet. Why?"

"Because it's not a symbol at all, Finn. It's just a tool. No different than a blaster or a knife."

"But it was his, and the Jedi gave it to him."

"Maybe, but that wasn't what made him what he was. Wasn't what made him a Jedi."

"I see. It just..." he sighed after a moment, "I'm not entirely sure what to do at this point."

"Because the mission is over?"

"Well, it is. I got you, Poe and the droid from the First Order to safety. By definition, I have completed my mission."

She smiled slightly, "Maybe, but I think you've started a new one, haven't you?"

He didn't respond. He just looked ahead at the paused form of Lor San and the Jedi students, "There are other reasons I am watching. I wanted to know where I came from."

"The Sith, you mean?"

He nodded, "They never left us. Even after Palpatine, the Sith still remained in the Empire's shadow; shaping us. I want to understand it. To understand them."

"Know the enemy?"

"Yes… and no. I also want to understand myself. I am a product of them, after all."

"I thought you said the Sith didn't command you?"

"They don't, but when a Lord speaks, we listen. That may not be command, but it is still authority. Besides, the Sith had to come from somewhere. They didn't come from Palpatine, which leaves honestly only one other option."

"Your High Marshal."

"It makes the most sense to me."

"Well, you're not wrong. Palpatine all but alluded that Hego Damask was his master, Darth Plagueis the wise. Of course, it's not entirely confirmed, but I'm convinced."

"Then that leads me to an unfortunate revelation. The First Order is doomed, and my brothers and sisters are going to die for another war started by the Sith. History is repeating, and there may not be any of us left at the end."

"I know what you mean," she said softly. Finn didn't need to look to know where her eyes were looking.

"Tell me about him," he said.

"Cale?"

"Yes. I want to understand what kind of man he was."

"I think Poe more or less laid that out on the Raptor."

"Poe was just a friend. You were his love."

She sighed, chuckling softly, "He was stubborn. Stars, if I had to sum him up, that's what he was. If he got an idea in his head, he'd dig his heels in and not budge. Not even Ben or his master Ahsoka could ever really talk him out of it. I mean," she shook her head, "it made him sweet, honestly. He'd never give up on you, never leave you alone."

"Was it to a fault?"

"Oh Force yes," she laughed, "he could be such a pain in the ass sometimes. But I think… I think that's why I loved him so much."

"When did it start? Here?"

"Oh no. No no no," she chuckled again, "you may not see it here, but we hated each other. Okay, maybe hate isn't the right word. Resent? We used to kick each others asses so many times he took it as a challenge. He was a Solo and Skywalker, and he was not gonna let them scrawny little desert girl knock him flat, no sir."

"Well, did you?"

"Yes, but so did he. He loved going after my hair, y'know. I always wore it in a braid, and he loved to just grab it and pull me down. Of course, I always cut it before he could win, but," she laughed, running her hand over her ear, "I got so fed up with him once that I slipped powder into his hair one time when he was sleeping. Whole thing came off and left him bald for a month. Do you know what he did?"

"What?"

"He waxed it, just to spite me. Got so shiny, it was blinding. Ahsoka used to call him little Windu."

That earned a laugh from Finn, "Funny, Nines did that to Zeroes once. The two of them started throwing punches at each other. Well, Zeroes was using the regulations book, really. Thing was surprisingly heavy... and then Slip went and stole clippers from the barber."

"Did he start cutting your hair or something?"

"Yes. He was always clean shaved, so we dog piled Nines and he cut his hair so much he started bleeding."

"Ouch. And you?"

"Oh, I didn't resist. Granted, I always kept it short afterwards. Sevens called us the Shinies afterwards."

"How old were you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"We were not too much older than you were here," he sighed then, "it was around that time we began proper combat training. Of course, we'd done such things before, but it was never quite that serious."

"Parnassos?"

He nodded, "We weren't against the tribes yet, but it was then that we started live fire exercises. Started our grueling training in the desert."

Rey stared at him for a moment before her eyes slid downward.

"What?" he asked.

"I started my training with A'Sharad and Kali around that time, too. On Tatooine, I mean."

"You had a choice in the matter, correct?"

"Sort of. My dad wanted A'Sharad to train me. Of course, I could've say no."

"But you didn't?"

"No, he was my dad. I didn't want to let him down. And I don't regret it, even if I hated it at the time."

"Hmm, Slip, Nines and I felt the same way about Parnassos. Well, not Zeroes; he didn't care. But I suppose I'm the same way. I don't regret any of it."

"But you regret the way it turned out?"

"Yes. Like you, I suppose."

She met his eye, "Yeah, I guess so."

She looked past him again at the holographic lecture, "Finn, do you believe that people can be saved, even if they don't want to be?"

"I don't know. Poe certainly did. But that was never something I was raised to ask. I raised to fight for a cause I once believed to be true, even if I was never entirely enthusiastic about it."

Finn looked back at Lor San, and shook his head, "Rey, when we were captured by my platoon, why didn't you kill any of the troopers?"

"Because I didn't have to."

"We were your enemy, and we'd killed some of your own."

She shook her head, "You didn't have a choice in the matter. Maybe if I hadn't met you, if I didn't know, things might have been different. But I didn't have to kill any of them, so I didn't."

"Except for L-tee."

Her eyes turned cold, "He made his choice willingly."

Finn nodded, "I suspect he was not going to be living much longer after that, considering he'd pointed a gun at Sevens. Brothers do not tolerate such things," he sighed and slumped over, "to answer your original question, I don't know. But I would like to think so. I would like to think that every man and woman who wears the helm can make the same choice I did… but I don't know if that is the case."

"Well, we won't know unless we go out and do it."

"Doesn't that expression end with try?"

"Jedi don't believe in try," she smirked, "it implies you're expecting to fail."

"I suppose so."

"C'mon," she took him by the hand, "there's something I want you to see."

* * *

"I'm sorry for last night, son."

Poe turned around to find his father standing at the doorway of the watchtower, his craggy face weary but still managing a smile. Poe nodded simply, "It's fine, dad."

"I know you wanted your space," he continued, moving up next to him to stare out over the ancient courtyard and the miles of forest all around, "I just saw you at the table s'all. I wanted to say hi."

"Well, you did."

"So, how are you?"

"Honestly? I'm just frickin' tired."

"You look it. Slept at all?"

"Tried," he sighed, "can't."

"Why?" he asked with sudden concern.

"Mom. Red blade messed with my head. He made me see her. And now I can't stop seeing her."

"Son," Merrick put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it, "what happened to your mum was not your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself for it."

"But I wasn't there," he whispered, shaking his head as he scoffed, "I wasn't there. Instead, I was being a stupid little punk running around and-"

"Stop," the older Dameron growled, "you've been pitying around for years, and it needs to stop."

"Why?" Poe turned to face him, his face awash with self-loathing, "You wanna know what I was doing when she got the results back?"

"You were in a detox tank."

"Yeah. This close to being kicked out of Flight School, and it was only cause of my mom I wasn't. And that's how I repaid her. I'm a frickin' failure, dad."

"You're not," he replied, his voice getting louder with each syllable, "you wouldn't be standing here if you were! You wouldn't be a decorated war hero if you were! You wouldn't be the Republic's best damn pilot if you were!"

"Yeah?" Poe shouted back, "Well that Red Blade tore all that away and showed me what I really was! Showed me that I'm still just a worthless little-"

The eldar Dameron smacked the younger up side the back of the head, causing him to flinch away in surprise. Merrick's voice didn't let up even once. "He only does that if you let him win. If you let him keep you broken. You're a Dameron and a Bey, both. You're my son as much as you are your mother's."

Poe didn't say anything, just standing there and shaking like a post in gale.

His father sighed and took his son by the shoulder, nodding as he did. "Poe, I know what you went through. What you're still going through. Before I met your mother, I was alone with no one to call my own. All I had was just the Empire and all I was to them was just a number, but Shara showed me I was more than that. I loved her, son. I still do."

"I miss her, dad," Poe shuddered as tears ran down his face, "I miss her every damn day."

The elder Dameron took the younger in a tight embrace, whispering softly, "I miss her too, but she's gone. We have to move on. She wouldn't want us to keep hurting. She'd want us to be happy."

"I haven't been happy in a long time," he whispered, "I haven't even been able to hold a single a stable relationship in years."

"What about Deliah?"

"She's different. Won't give me the time of day, and she's not wrong."

Poe felt his father smile, "She reminds me a lot of your mother. She's a good woman who wants you to get better."

"Her? Want me to get better?"

"Poe," he held his son out and gave him a salty old grin, "I'm much older, wiser and handsomer than you. I know what I'm going on about."

"Heh," Poe grinned back, "you're at least one of those things, dad."

"Smartass."

"Grouch-face."

"What are you, five?"

"At least I'm not a hundred."

"Well, I'm still young enough to kick your ass back to Yavin."

"Yeah? Well, when it gets stuck, I'll take your leg with me."

"I'll get a new one."

"Then I'll take that one too and sell it."

That made Merrick laugh, and Poe found it contagious for a long minute. In truth, neither one had laughed that hard in years.

Father patted son on the shoulder and smiled. "So, you good to go? I got some FNG's who need to have tucks kicked into high gear back at the barracks."

"Actually, I've got something of an odd question."

"Oh?"

"Um, yeah. Did you ever notice anything weird about me when I was a kid? Namely back when were on Yavin?"

His father gave him an odd face. "Weird how?"

"I dunno," he sighed, pulling away to look over the courtyard of the ancient castle, "like, did I ever do anything was unexplainable?"

"Where's this coming from?"

"I just..." he sighed and shook his head, "nothin'."

"No, not nothin'. What is it?"

"Okay, I'll just say it. Did you ever think I was Force-sensitive?"

"No," he replied.

"Well that figures-"

"Back then, at least."

That made Poe spin around, "What do you mean, 'back then?'"

"I mean exactly that," Merrick shrugged, "you were a perfectly normal boy. Sure, you got into trouble every time you tried to sneak into the damn Praxeum every other Sunday, but normal."

"Okay, but what did you mean by 'back then,' like something changed?"

"Son, I wasn't lying when I said you are the best damn pilot in the Republic. Antilles said he's never seen anybody better."

"C'mon, the old man says that about everything."

"Except he said it to me. His exact words were 'He reminds me of Luke back at the Death Star.'"

"...huh. I gotta go." And he was out the door.

"Go where?" his father called out to him.

"Out. Gotta ask somebody something."

"Okay…" Merrick mused, and when he turned around, he saw what Poe was looking at. Or more accurately, who. "Oh, I get it now."

* * *

In truth, though he'd spent almost half his life in the desert, it wasn't the first time Finn had strove through the green groves of a forest. The Academy of Tyyrr came to mind, with its mountains of mile stretching bamboo and maidenhair, with the occasional redwood and maple that remained a blood red throughout the year.

At first glance, the forest didn't seem that much different. Just miles upon miles of oak and beech, chestnut and conifers. Everything was covered in a kind of green moss. Every now and then, he'd see foxgloves and other kinds of flowers. He chuckled softly to himself. His men had thought it strange he'd picked up such a hobby. Maybe it was, but he always found it fascinating.

What he found strange was the feeling of the place. On Tyyrr, there was a sort of apprehension in the air; a constant tension that settled deep into your mind and left you wary. Maybe it had something to do with the biting humidity of its swamp lands and bayous, or the constant buzz of its pestering insects.

 _No,_ he thought to himself, _it's deeper than that._

Everything about this place was peaceful. He felt as ease trekking over the ancient stoneworks covered in moss, and taking a deep breath of the air felt and even tasted sweet. Even the noise of the wildlife felt strangely harmonious. The birds chirping, the hoots of wildlife and the buzz of insects sounded like music, almost.

It was so different than what he knew. This place… he couldn't explain it but he felt connected to it somehow. Like a part of it. There was life here, and he suddenly realized how little Tyyrr had.

"You feel it, don't you?" Rey asked head of him as she scaled a sloping wall and helped pull him up.

"Yes," he nodded, "but I don't understand it. What is this place?"

"A place where the Force lives in its fullest," she replied absently, "the Force lives and generates in all living things, but it so often muddled and confused. But not here. Everything is… simple. I can't describe it any other way."

Finn nodded, stopping to stare up at the golden sun creeping through the conifers and pine above, producing a glamorous light that remind him of stain glass.

"I'm not sure why I'm noticing all this," he suddenly said to no one in particular, "I didn't before, when we first came here."

"You weren't paying attention," she smiled at him, "you had a lot on your mind."

"I still do."

"But you're starting to see the light at the end of it all?"

"Light?"

"It's something my dad used to say. 'Your mind becomes drowned in problems and worry, it turns to mist. Well, until someone shines a lantern at the end for you to follow.'"

"I suppose so. But I doubt you brought me out here just to look at flowers."

"No," she smiled simply, "have you started to notice all the stone work around here?"

Finn looked around. It was difficult to see with all the moss coating everything, but he did. There were walls and the foundations of walls bent and pulled into artificial sheers and cliffs. He saw evidence of irrigation systems creating small ravines and concrete tunnels in criss cross formation. He even saw the remains of a grated dam at the end of system, connecting to crumbling aqueducts in the distance.

"It looks old," he nodded after a while, "And the masonry appears to be the same as the Temple itself."

"Yeah, that's because it is. All of this was once part of it, thousands of years ago. Now, the actual Temple is all that stands."

"You never tried to rebuild any of this?"

She shook her head, "What would be the point? We only needed the Temple, and the planet wanted the rest. I call that a fair trade."

"You act like the planet is alive."

"In a way, it is. C'mon, let's keep going."

* * *

Some hundred yards away, Poe was watching and following; careful to remain unseen. He didn't know why he felt the need to stay hidden, but he did and so he remained so. Still, there was something about this place that felt… odd. Like he was being watched, and it sure as hell didn't feel like his friends ahead.

"Poe."

He spun around, finding himself faced with a rock cliff and an oak tree being bent over by gravity and old age.

"Someone there?" he asked. Crickets and birds were the only response. He shook his head, noticed that Rey and Finn were moving again, and started to shadow them.

"Poe," he heard the voice again and he spun around, looking in all directions. There was nothing there.

"Okay, this isn't funny. Who's there?"

Silence followed, and he grumbled to himself as he began to climb a hill. "I'm getting jumpy out here."

* * *

Ahead, Rey and Finn came across a stone courtyard, not too dissimilar to the one back at the temple. At the center of it though was a sort of shrine, by Finn's guess, with a lighting bowl contained by a shinto with blue blossoms coating the yard with pale sapphire flowers.

"I feel something… strange," Finn said.

"Like a calling?" Rey asked, already sure of his answer.

"And the trees, the shrine, they look like they're glowing."

It reminded him of Deliah accidental phermonic attack, with all the colors exaggerated like neon lights in the dead of night with an irresistible attraction to them. It felt magnetic, somehow, like he was meant to be here. Then, quite suddenly, the lighting bowl ignited a bright white flame and Finn took a step back from the surprise of it.

"That's because you are," Rey smiled at him, the spontaneous combustion not even surprising her.

"I don't understand," Finn replied, his eyes transfixed on the flame.

"Yes you do. I think you've always understood, deep down at least."

Finn thought back over the countless days since his life had taken such a drastic turn. The times when he'd accomplished what he'd deemed impossible, and yet…

"What am I to do?" he whispered.

"Go to the Shrine, and open your mind."

"How do I do that?"

She smiled at him again, gesturing to the fiery shrine. "Only you can know that."

For a moment, he felt fear. Not fear of death or loss, but of the unknown; of taking that first step. But looking into the knowing and unfazed hazel eyes beckoning him, he knew this was where his road lay. All his life, he'd been taught the value of purpose and the danger of its loss. Was this his purpose?

He shook his head, and stepped into the courtyard. With the report of his boot against the ancient cobblestone, the flame seemed to grow in intensity of purity, and with each step it continued to do so until it became a blaze of blue. He was transfixed by it, and he felt the sudden compulsion to touch it. The blue flames danced along the length of his hand and arm… and yet they did not burn.

He withdrew his hand, the flames residing for a moment before finally being snuffed out. He sighed, his heart pounding in chest as he continued to stare into the flames.

"Open my mind," he whispered. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he settled into a meditative posture. The First Order had trained him to maintain mental discipline, to focus his thoughts in time of chaos. Was this the same?

Then he began to feel everything. The rush of the wind upon his cheek, the flutter of leaves in the distance, the soft chirps of a cricket yards away. The world beckoned to him, seeking to make it one of its own, and Finn did not refuse it. He felt the energy of world coursing through him, the life of the planet singing in chorus. Now he understood what Rey meant when she alluded to this world being alive.

"What is this?" he asked in the gloom.

"It's the Force, Eighty-Seven."

Finn's eyes snapped open. "Slip?"

* * *

Behind them, Poe moved in the underbrush until he saw something that made him panic. He wanted to call out Finn's name, his hand slipping down to his holstered blaster when something stopped him. It was not a physical presence, but a feeling. Something utterly familiar.

"Mom?"


	37. Chapter 30 - Spiritual Guidance

**Chapter 35 - Spiritual Guidance**

* * *

 **Takodana**

 **The Jedi Temple**

* * *

"Slip?"

"Hello, Eighty-Seven."

Finn's eyes widened as the breath was caught in his lungs. It was beyond shock what he was feeling. He couldn't honestly say what he was feeling as he stood there, stiff as a door, staring at the incorporeal form of his dead brother. Was it a trick? Was it just another nightmare conjured up from his guilty conscience?

"Well," Slip suddenly said, "the last time you saw me, I wasn't exactly pleasant to look at to begin with, was I?"

Finn narrowed his eyes, "You were a hallucination brought about by a mad hungry apex predator to torment me. Of course you weren't pleasant to look at."

"And you think that is what I am?"

"The thought did cross my mind."

"Well, to my knowledge, there is nothing capable of producing such a hallucination here."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Slip's eyes stared at him for a moment, the pain evident in his ghostly face, before they turned downcast to the ancient stone at their feet. "I suppose you don't. It's really is up to you what you want to believe… brother."

The edgings of a smile crossed Finn's face as he took a cautious step forward before attempting to embrace the ghostly Slip. He passed right through him, his form slipping away like mist.

"You're really not here, are you?" Finn sadly asked as he turned to face him again, "You really are gone."

"Yes," Slip nodded, his voice a grave whisper, "I have been since that night on Jakku."

Finn hung his head at that, "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault. It just happened."

"That honestly doesn't make me feel any better, Slip," he looked up at him again, trying to keep his voice from breaking, "why are you here?"

"I've been waiting for you, actually."

"What? For how long?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Time is strange when you're incomporial. It feels like you're everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Am I making sense?"

"Not really, but-wait, if you're here," he turned around, looking in all directions, "is Nines and Zeroes here?"

"No," he shook his head, "they… chose to stay behind."

"Oh," he found the nearest wall to sit down, Slip coming to join him, "I take it they didn't want to?"

"Actually, it really had nothing to do with you. Zeroes hasn't really taken his death all too well. I'd said he's become rather peculiar, having no real purpose anymore."

"Hmm, that figures. What about Nines?"

"Well, you remember that girl from Besh Company he liked to wrestle? The blond?"

"Yes… didn't she die a week before we finished basic?"

"Yeah, she's up here, too. Let's just say Nines is making up for lost time."

That made Finn laugh, "So, a lass is more important than me? Sounds about right."

"He did tell me to send his regards, and good luck on your mission. He hopes you make things right for us."

Finn narrowed his eyes at him. "What you mean my mission?"

"The reason you're here, of course," Slip shrugged his shoulders, "why you betrayed what we stood for to save a person you didn't even know at the time."

Finn just shook his head, "Slip, it's far more complicated than that-"

"I know," Slip interrupted, "I saw everything, remember?"

Finn's voice finally broke in that moment. "Then you know what I did."

"Yes. What you and everyone else in our company were ordered to do. And yet out of all of them, you chose to do something about it. I suppose the question would be why."

"Don't you already know that?"

Slip didn't answer, he just looked at him expectantly. Was this a test of some sort? Finn again began to wonder if this really was the spirit of Slip talking to him or just another trick of his mind.

He sighed after a moment, his hand digging into his New Republic BDU's and pulling out the only tangible item left from his time in the First Order: his identification tag.

"You ever wonder why they never gave us names?" Finn asked after a moment, his reflection staring back at him from the stainless-steel finish of the tag, "Why they only gave us numbers to identify us?"

"We did have names, Eighty-Seven."

"That's not the same, Slip. We gave each other names, but they were not given to us. Not even by Phasma. As you said, the question is why."

"Don't you already know that?"

Finn looked up at Slip, but saw there was no humor in the man's boyish face. "Yes. The same reason we were not given the choice to be soldiers."

"Choice," Slip nodded, "I've learned up here that's what defines a free man from a slave. Is that what we were?"

"You tell me. You're the one looking down on the rest of us."

Slip just shook his head at that, "Finn, it's not about what I know, it's about what **you** believe, or rather what you want to believe. You're the one who's still alive, after all."

The use of the name Poe had given him somehow surprised him. He didn't know why it did, it just did. He of course didn't respond to that course of thought, deflecting as he whispered, "Not for much longer, the way things are going."

"Yes," Slip nodded, "would it surprise you that Phasma is going to disregard her orders?"

Finn whipped his head around at that, "What?"

"Phasma is being assigned to hunt for that map we died for. Her orders when she runs into you is to put you down. Came directly from the Admiral himself."

"I'm not surprised."

"At which part? The Captain or the Admiral?"

"Both, honestly. Hux is a pragmatist; he knows I'm a threat."

"And we're practically Phasma's children. So, why would the First Order dispatch our mother with orders to kill you?"

"I told you, I'm a threat. Besides, what better way to prove her loyalty than to kill a wayward son?"

"But why, Finn? Why are you such a threat? Why are they afraid of you?"

"Because I'm a fault in the system. L-Tee said so himself."

"That's one way to look at it, I suppose. But there's more to it and you know it. After all, you're just one man, one deserter, and that can be ignored. But they're not going to. They are treating you with as much value if the Admiral himself switched sides. So I ask you again, why are they so afraid of you?"

Finn considered his answer for a moment, staring down at the dog tags in his hands. "Because I chose to be free."

When he looked back up at Slip, he saw him smile. "Yes. Because you saw the truth, even if you didn't realize it, and they're terrified that others will too."

"What truth?"

"I think you already know."

Finn cracked a smile, "Why can't you just give me a straight answer?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "I'm walking a very thin line just being here, brother. I can't just say what I wish, but I can nudge you a bit."

"So there are rules even up there?"

"There are rules everywhere, especially in history. I think you know the one I'm talking about."

"Yes, it repeats," he nodded, his mind wandering back an hour to Lor San's lecture. It hadn't been a coincidence that he'd settled on that particular one out of hundreds, he realized. "You know, they never did tell us where we came from."

"Us?" Slip asked.

"The Empire. Where it came from, really. Or perhaps more accurate, where the idea came from. They never told us about the Sith or their empires. But then again, why would they?"

"Why indeed," Slip smirked softly, "because if they did, if we were told what we really are in the grand scheme of things, would we be so loyal?"

"What does it matter?" Finn shook his head, "I'm just one man."

"One man who can inspire others," Slip countered, "You know what I saw when L-Tee tried to kill you? I saw how afraid he was, not just of you but what you represent to them. The slave realizing the chain around his neck."

Finn glared at Slip, "I was many things, Slip, but slave was not one."

"Then what would you call it?"

"My profession…" he suddenly trailed off at the hypocrisy of that.

"Finn," Slip said again, "our brothers and sisters are fighting a war we didn't choose. Living a life that isn't ours. Dying for something we don't understand, and those who question it becomes the enemy. That is slavery, and that is what we were. What many of us still are."

"Is it even real?" Finn suddenly asked, "The colonies? The life after? Us being given spouses and expected to raise children in a paradise? Is any of that even real?"

"Even if it is, does that really sound like paradise to you? Our children won't get to choose the life they want, just what the First Order wants. And what they want is generations upon generations of **us**."

Finn stared at Slip, and then at the world around him. "I'm just one man," he whispered again.

"So was Luke Skywalker, and look at what he did. Even this we were taught."

"'The weakness of a nation begins with the individual,'" Finn recited, "ironic. But I'm not him, Slip. I'm not a hero born of heroes."

"He wasn't born one, Finn. He chose to be one. He inspired others to be better. Why do you think the guy in the black hat gave you that entire speech?"

"But even if I do… how do I even start?"

"When the time comes, you'll know how."

Finn nodded, not sure if he believed it or not. "I don't suppose you can tell me how this ends, can you?"

"Not even the dead can know that," Slip smiled softly, "but I have faith in you."

"Why?" Finn turned to face Slip, to look him in the eye as he asked, "Why me?"

"Because you're my brother," he reached his hand forward and though it fazed through Finn's hand, the gesture still remained, "and that is the one lesson from Phasma I can always appreciate."

It had been years since Finn had cried. He didn't even feel it or even realize it until he felt the moisture soak his clothes. He wiped them away and sighed. "I don't suppose you can stick around, help me through this?" He opened his eyes and Slip was nowhere to be found.

"I'll always be with you, Finn," he heard his voice like a distant wind, "even if you can't see me."

Finn knew it was pointless, but he looked around anyway. All that was was the forest and the planet around him. But it was enough and he smiled. "I won't let you down, Slip."

* * *

"Well, that was illuminating."

Shara Bey Dameron nodded at her son's comment, "That it was."

Poe's eyes ran sideways, staring at the ghostly form of his mother brought back to life. For so many years, the only image he thought of her was when she was dying of a wasting disease in some hospital bed. She'd looked like the mangled form of death, her sickly and hollow form clinging onto what little life she still had left.

Maybe it was the fact he hadn't been there in her final moments that effectively seared the image in his brain. Regardless, he'd forgotten how beautiful she was, or how much he resembled her; especially their jet black hair and almost golden-hazel eyes.

"Please," she smiled at him, "you look more like your dad."

The ghost of a smirk passed his lips. "Great. First Rey, and now you. Is every woman around going to be peeping into my thoughts?"

"Not hard to do, considering you practically shout them."

"Funny," he shook his head and sighed, "Mom, what are you doing here? Why are we eavesdropping on my friend?"

Shara tilted her head with a slight annoyance, crossing her arms as she did. "What? You're saying I can't visit my son when he's in a place I can?"

"You know what I mean, Mom. Why now? Why not sooner?"

"You weren't ready. In a way you still aren't, but I got tired of waiting."

"Ready for what? To be swinging a neon stick and saving the day? Nah, I don't think so."

Shara shrugged, "It's what you wanted to be when you were ten. How many times did you break into the Praxeum back on Yavin?"

"I was a kid, mom. A stupid kid who grew up with stories of Luke Skywalker. Besides, that was a very long time ago."

"Not to me it wasn't. It honestly seems like yesterday when Yun dragged you back home after you tried to steal his lightsaber."

"Like I said, stupid."

"No," she said indignantly, "sweet, not stupid."

"Sure," he said dismissively, looking across the field at his friend who was… meditating?

"Does Dad know you're here?" he asked.

"Yes, and no. He can't exactly see me like you can, but I visit him in his dreams every now and then."

Poe raised an eyebrow, "Um, should I know what you two get up to in these dreams of yours?"

"Nothing improper if that's what you mean."

"Sure," he grinned, and she scowled.

"Believe what you want, son. Although I wish I was corporeal so I could slap you right about now."

"Yeah, that's about right," he sighed, sitting down on a moss-bitten wall, staring at nothing in particular, "that's usually how things go with any woman who spends more than five minutes with me."

"Poe…"

"Mom," he interrupted, staring up her sad, beautiful face, "if you're here to try to tell me I shouldn't hate myself, don't bother. Even Dad couldn't convince me, and he's had years."

"Why? Because you weren't there?"

"Because I was in a detox tank when you…" he couldn't bring himself to say it, "because I was a stupid kid when it mattered most and I nearly threw away everything you and Dad helped me be. I mean, if I wasn't a Dameron, I would've been out of the Academy a long time ago."

Shara made an unreadable face. He honestly couldn't tell if it was concern, disappointment or something altogether different in those deep set eyes of hers. Then strangely, she grinned, "Nearly."

"What?"

"You nearly didn't become the son I'm proud of. But you did."

"You're honestly proud of me?" Poe deadpanned.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she sat down next to him, looking over to where Finn was kneeling before the shrine, "He's all the proof I need."

"Finn? I don't understand."

She smiled nostalgically in that moment, her eyes in a different time and place altogether, "I know the feeling. A lot of people didn't understand what I saw in your father, back on Sullust I mean."

He shrugged at that. "Well, he was a Stormtrooper at the time."

"Yes, and so was Finn. He was your enemy, and yet you looked beyond that. You saw the man that he really was, and you risked life and limb to save him even when you didn't have to."

"Mom, please don't insist on us being a thing, because I don't swing that way."

Shara slapped her hand on the underside of his head, but her hand fazed right through. "Damnit," she cursed, "I honestly wouldn't care if you did, that's not my point. Besides," she broke into a sly grin, "I know how you've been looking at Deliah since the Academy."

"Mom," his face reddened, "stop trying to embarrass me."

"I'm your mother, of course I'm going to embarrass you."

"Well stop it. I'm a grown man now."

"Yes," she nodded sadly, "and yet you've been living in the past since you were 19."

"Yeah well, I've had a good reason to," he snorted, "I mean, I should've been there, at the end."

"Why?"

The question caught him off guard, "Huh?"

"Why does it matter if you were there or not? I was dying, Poe. It didn't matter if you were there or not. Honestly, I was even a bit grateful you weren't. It tore your father apart seeing me like I was, and we had months to prepare."

"I…" he couldn't finish the sentence, and he shook his head, "I just let you down, mom."

"How? I mean, look at you. Commander of a squadron? A decorated war hero? A man who would risk his life to save a stranger because you believed he was worth saving? How does any of that is you letting me down? You've become everything I wanted you to be."

"I should've been that since the beginning," he replied bitterly, "it shouldn't have taken you dying to make me a 'better' man."

She just shook her head at the statement, "Would it surprise you that I was like you at your age? When your grandfather passed away, I mean?"

That made Poe spin right around, "What? You?"

"Oh you'd be surprised. I was a flygirl, after all. A wild one at that. I loved getting into trouble."

"Because of grandpa?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I blamed myself for what happened to him for years. Until I realized something, something I didn't truly understand until I met your father," she looked right at him at that moment, her eyes staring deep into his soul, "it doesn't matter what we did then. What matters is what we do now. I even think you told Finn that."

"That…" he was about to say 'that was different,' but he held his tongue. He instead deflected, asking, "Is that why we eavesdropped on Finn's heart to heart with his bunkmate?"

"Yes," she nodded, "every action we take has a consequence, both good and bad. Especially with those closest to us. Would Finn be where he is now if not for you?"

Instantly, Poe's mind flashed back to when Finn admitted he'd wanted to die, how he questioned why Poe had chosen to see any kind of good in him. He shook his head, "It wasn't just me, mom. Rey had as much to do with it as I did."

"Except she didn't put him on the path. You did."

Poe didn't say anything, he just listened to the sounds of the forest while his brain recounted all the events that led them to this moment. Lor San, the map, being captured, escaping, meeting Finn and Rey. He actually tried to figure out the timeframe of that, but in the end he couldn't. He supposed it had been days, but it felt like years. So much of his life had changed in such a short time.

How much more was it going to change?

"Can I ask you something?" Poe turned to look up at his mother, "Did I ever do anything strange when I was younger?"

Shara smiled down at him, shaking her head, "I think you already know the answer to your real question, Poe. After all, how else are you seeing me now?"

"Touche. But why now? Why not before? I mean, I spent most of my childhood a day's walk from the Jedi Praxeum, so…?"

He let the question hang, and Shara shook her head. "I don't know. I suppose Finn might've asked the same question, considering his circumstances. It is funny actually."

"What is?"

"Well," she sat down next to him, staring off into the forest ahead, "do you remember that great Uneti tree me and your dad planted in front of our house?"

"Yeah, I built a swing from it. What about it?"

"That tree was a gift from Luke. It was one of two saplings recovered from the remains of the Old Jedi Temple on Coruscant."

Poe did a double take at that, "Seriously? How come you never told me about it?"

"Because I thought it was just a tree. I mean, it was a nice tree, but I thought that was all it was."

"But it wasn't, was it?"

She shook her head, "That tree was part of a long line from the center of the Jedi Order for thousands of years. I guess it really shouldn't be surprising that there was something special about it."

Poe gave her a funny look, "Really? I'm frickin' Force-Sensitive because of a tree? You do realize how ridiculous that sounds?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "Force works in funny ways. I'd even say the Force woke in both you and Finn. Maybe it was destiny that you two met."

"Now you're sounding like Lor San."

"Was he wrong?" she asked with a smile.

"Not saying that. I just don't give a lot of stock in destiny. No, what I believe in is choice. We all choose what we're gonna be," he looked over at Finn, "and he looks like he's figured out what he's gonna do."

"Have you?"

Poe looked back to her, and he closed his eyes for a moment, "Am I really Force Sensitive?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I don't deserve such power."

"Poe, don't give me the false humility. The Force chose you for a reason, and it is far beyond what you give it credit for."

"But what if it made a mistake?"

"As you said, it's all a matter of choice. You choose what to do with the power you are given, not the Force itself."

Poe sighed in reluctance at the idea. Shara, with a hint of frustration, suddenly asked, "What would you do with it? This power you have inside of you?"

Poe stared hard at his mother, gazing into her eyes. "Do you even have to ask?"

Shara smiled, "No, I don't. You're a hero, Poe, even if you don't believe it. After all, what matters is what we do now, and I already know what you're going to do next."

"Because you're a ghost?"

"Because I'm your mother."

Strangely, unexpectedly, Poe began to shake. He didn't know why at first, not until a flood of emotions flooded over him to the point that tears started to fall down his cheeks. More than anything in the moment, he wanted to embrace his mother. To hold her, and it pained him even more that he couldn't.

"I miss you, Mom," he whispered, his voice breaking as did the mask he'd worn for half of his life, "I miss you every damn day."

Shara smiled the way only a parent could. "I never left, and I will always be with you. You just have to look."

She reached her hand out to him, just barely touching his cheek a hair's breadth from phasing through. From what he'd seen, Poe knew his mother couldn't physically touch him and by definition he shouldn't be able to feel anything. Yet, he did. It was like a dam breaking, and he shuddered in response.

Her smile melted his heart. "I'm so proud of you, son. Now, go and be the good man I know you are."

Poe smiled back, closing his eyes and taking in everything at once. Then something changed, and when he opened his eyes, she was gone. All that was left was the world in a new light.

"Yes ma'am."

* * *

"Hey Dad, Mom. It's me again."

Rey stared into the endless green of the forest ahead, the sounds of its wildlife her only reply. She sighed, shaking her head as she focused her mind on the meditation. She reached her feelings out, connecting with the life around like million firelights around her, and attempted to reach deeper into the void that lay under the surface. As her mind dug through, she hoped to catch a glimpse of who she was looking for.

In the end, all she found was the sea but not the fish. She snorted in frustration, her hands rippling through her hair as her breath came out as vetted suspire. "C'mon, I know you're there. Pick up, please."

There was nothing. Not even a stifle of movement in the Force. Part of Rey wanted to scream. It wasn't fair; why did Poe and Finn get to see their lost ones but not her? What did this place want with her exactly? How much more did the Force, the universe, or whatever else demand from her before it-

"Stop whining," she chided herself with a long drawn out exhale, "it's unbecoming. I mean, who are you to demand anything? You're just a gal with a lightsaber and a lot of questions, right?"

She honestly didn't know who she was saying this to, and she doubted Finn or Poe would hear her. She didn't care really. Or was that just another lie to keep the crippling depression at bay?

"I mean, why me? Why not someone else? Someone a lot more qualified than me? Dad," she shook her head, "you know it. I'm not a teacher, I've never been one. Fixing machines, keeping the boys out of trouble, that's what I was good at. But this? Well, I'm no Yoda. I'm not even a Kenobi, for crying out loud."

Either she was imagining things, or did that convor owl just hoot at her?

"Oh shut up," she grinned at the bird, which in turn narrowed its vulpine eyes at her, "I haven't had the chance to gripe in years, gimme a break."

The owl just tilted its head at her, studying her curiously.

"Yeah well, I suppose with my luck… my luck," she snorted at the idea, "my parents are gone, my friends, the man I loved betrayed everything and… well, at this point I'm probably the last Jedi left in this stupid galaxy. So can you tell me why that is, Mr. Eavesdropper?"

The owl shrugged and took off in flight.

"Yeah, I didn't think so."

She tried again, reaching out to that never-ending sea of life around her, but what she was looking for wasn't there.

"Mom, Dad? If you're out there, somewhere? I… I really need some help here. It doesn't have to be much. I just need someone to talk to, y'know? I mean, you two went through it. The Empire, I mean. What did you do? Okay, correction. How did you do it? Can you tell me that much?"

At first, there was nothing. Then just as she was about to give into her frustration, she heard the convor owls perched on the high reaches of the ruins surrounding her, hooting down at her.

"What are you trying to show me?"

It was clearly a family unit: two females and a male. The male, she guessed the dad, suddenly flew out in wide sweeping arcs over and over again. The smaller of the females looked apprehensive at her parent… until her mum gave her a nice peck at the tail that made her drop and start flying.

"Cheeky," Rey grinned as the owl struggled to maintain her altitude, dad coming in now and then to help maintain her flight. Eventually, the chick dove for solid ground, and the father landed in after her. At first, the tiercel tried to buffet his chick out, but she wouldn't budge.

After a while, the father gave up and started flying around again, showing off by example until he came back down again. She still wouldn't move, so he tried it again and again, always coming back with a sort 'see?' look on his avian features. He took off for a fourth time, Rey feeling the frustration from him before the chick suddenly took off after him, flying in sync with her dad.

They did so for close to a minute, doing flybys until the chick got the hang of it. Once she did, the whole family took off, flying over Rey's head so closely she could've touched them. As they went off into the distance to probably ruin some other critters day, Rey nodded with a smile. "Thanks for the lesson."

She suddenly felt movement in the forest ahead, and she turned to see someone running her way. It was Ranger Wyatt.

"Ah, there you are. Yer one hard lady to track down, y'know that?" the older man panted, "Where's Turncoat and the Poster Boy?"

"Is something wrong?"

"The Senate meeting's starting on Chandrila. Broadcasts gonna be goin' up in a few minutes. Boss wants everybody in attendance. Now c'mon, I didn't burn my damn lungs out fer nothin', y'know?"


	38. Chapter 31 - The Assembly

**Chapter 36 - The Assembly**

* * *

 **Takodana**

 **The Jedi Temple**

* * *

Though about ten minutes late into the broadcast of the government assembly taking place on the New Republic's capital world of Chandrila, Rey, Finn and Poe knew they didn't miss much as they entered Common Hall. At the moment, the broadcast was focused on the fair form of Senator Poojah Nabrie of Naboo, who looked as though someone had just insulted her mother.

" _Senator Lyndon, I find your accusations to be nothing short of disturbing!"_

" _Do you wish to know what I find even more disturbing, Senator Nabrie?"_ the Senator of Coruscant drew himself up to his fully impressive bulk and height, his pockmarked face drawing into a snarl, " _That you tarnish the memory of your aunt, the late Senator Amidala, by brandishing your warmongering politics!"_

" _How dare you!"_ Nabrie shouted back, " _I stand on the position that the New Republic should not be so free to bow to the whims of the First Order! How is that even remotely warmongering?"_

" _Because your propositions would lead to escalation, which would lead to a war no one wants over allegations you have no proof of! This is a nation governed by laws, not emotional responses!"_

" _I disagree with that assertion, sir,"_ the camera suddenly switched Fenn Shysa, Senator of Mandalore, who replied with a cool confidence, " _first, Senator Nabrie is not talking about escalations. She is presenting the fact that an investigation into the deliberate attack against the Jedi has not been carried out. That is not the same as declaring war."_

" _The Jedi are no longer under our jurisdiction, therefore they are not entitled to an investigation for the problems they find themselves in!"_

" _Except the damn attack happened in our territory, so therefore it is our jurisdiction, sir! The only reason why it has not been deliberated is because of the-"_

" _If you dare accuse me of harboring sentiments against the Jedi, I will throw this chair at you!"_ Lyndon shouted down at him, " _Need I remind you that Coruscant suffered just as much as anyone else under Palpatine's rule, who was a Sith? Why would I hold a grudge against the forces that helped free my world?"_

" _Did I say I was accusing you of such thoughts, Mr. Lyndon? Before you so rudely interrupted me, I was about to accuse this entire room, not just particularly you."_

" _You've got a lot of guts saying that, Shysa!"_ a Muun senator shouted across from him.

Shysa just shook his head. " _Don't mean it false."_

" _Senator Shysa,"_ Nabrie interrupted, " _I don't believe you were done with your original statements._ "

" _That I was not, my dear. Senator Lyndon, if I may?_ "

" _Go ahead,_ " he grumbled.

" _Thank you. Second, you are discussing the idea of keepin' the peace as it were, with folks who have no desire for peace with us. And do not say we have no proof, sir, we all know the truth. The united Imperial Remnant has routinely broken the statutes of the Concordance on more than one accusation_."

" _So have we,_ " Lyndon grumbled, " _and you don't see them declaring war on us._ "

" _Except each and every single one of those occasions have been for sake of containing humanitarian crises, sir_."

" _So were the First Order's cases._ "

" _So they say. Third, you commit the graver insult by taking Senator Amidala's actions out of context, and dare to drag the good name of her niece through that proverbial mud._ "

" _I'm not here for a history lesson, Shysa. And as I recall, you fought for the Separatists._ "

" _That I did, because at the time I thought their cause was the just one. What Senator Amidala recognized at the time was that there was no just cause on either side, and she sought to end that war. Perhaps if she succeeded, we wouldn't be standing here._ "

He turned his gaze to the rest of assembled room, adding with his trademarked sanguine smile, " _What Ms. Nabrie is stating is that we have an entitlement to the truth of what happened all those years ago, and I would say that the First Order should cooperate in such an investigation, especially if they have nothing to hide!_ "

" _Provide the proof they had something to do with it,_ " a Senator Bron Dooku from Serenno interjected, " _and a committee will be formed to investigate the matter_."

" _With all due respect, Bron,_ " Nabrie countered, " _isn't that the entire point of raising a committee in the first place? To actually find proof?_ "

" _You know what I honestly think, Senators?_ " Lyndon grumbled, " _I think that your so called peaceful worlds have been raising bountiful militaries well beyond the standard means necessary to enforce their own borders. After all, yours have routinely been deployed in other neighboring sectors in their crises, and I shall fairly say that such actions were nothing short of extreme._ "

" _Get to the point, Lyndon_ ," Senator Jesmine Ackbar of Mon Cala cut in.

" _Alright. Senator Nabrie, Senator Shysa, I have two specific questions for you. First, are you so desperately itching for a fight that you would provoke a war at first opportunity? Second, would your questionable work history together have anything to do with your deliberation_?"

While the shock might have been overblown, it was all too personal as the cameras focused on Nabrie and Shysa.

"Damn!" one of the army troopers chuckled, "He did not just go there."

"Hey, can you pass the popcorn?" Poe asked, "Something Tells me Shysa is gonna give as good as he got."

"You actually watch your senate deliberate?" Finn asked.

"Oh yes," Lu'lu said with a grin, "makes for great entertainment, especially when duels are declared."

"What?"

"If this keeps going the way I think it is, there will be a duel declared soon."

"That's legal?"

"Mmm hmm," Han smirked, "so much money is made on bets that people kept it around."

"Probably the funniest time was when two Senators from Pantora used their pods like bumper cars," Shrike smirked as he blew out a ring, "nobody made any money off of that one, I'm afraid. They fell out of their pods like schmucks and Leia had to levitate them back up."

"Huh," Finn nodded, "they certainly did not teach us this in First Order."

" _Sir,"_ they heard Shysa suddenly declare, " _with all due respect, if you intend to sully my good name an' the good name of the Lady Nabrie, need I remind you that we still a dueling ring downstairs?"_

A long smile passed by Lyndon's craggy face, " _You challenging me to a duel, Mandie?"_

" _Why, yes I am you bloated cowpoke. I would dare say it'd do the lot of this glorious room quite a bit of good. You don't get slander mine and other's names and expect to get away with it!"_

" _Um, maybe we should calm down a bit-"_ Senator Dooku started but Lyndon cut him off sharply.

" _Zip it, Bron! I've been waiting to teach this boy a lesson for years! I've had it up to here with your Mando osik, Shysa!"_

" _Good! I suggest we settle this after the conference is adjourned!"_

" _Deal! I'll have your head stuffed on my wall by the afternoon!"_

"And just like that, a duel has been declared," Marrick chuckled.

"When do you think-" Lu'lu began only to see the text ' _place your bets: the duel between Senator Lyndon and Senator Shysa goes down at 1500 hours.'_ "Well Lando doesn't miss a beat."

"He's a businessman and entrepreneur what do you expect?" Han asked sardonically

" _ORDER!_ " a thunder clap suddenly shook the room as the camera turned to the back of the room, focusing on Vice-Chancellor Lanever Villecham. The Tarsunt's enlarged internal lungs and diaphragm effectively allowed him to out-shout the rest of the room as he bellowed, " _WE WILL HAVE ORDER IN THIS ASSEMBLY!"_

"Loudmouth," Rey muttered. Finn gave her a look and she shrugged, "what can I say? I can't stand the man, or his boss."

"Why's that?"

"They were one of those stupid peace activists back in the day. I was just a little girl back then, but I still remember when they protested us back on Yavin… before the Temple exploded."

"I see. Perhaps with that voice, he would've been better suited to be a Parade Sergeant."

"With that face?" she chuckled, "Then again, it's nothing compared to his boss."

As if on cue, the camera panned over to the man sitting next to the Vice-Chancellor. Unlike the rest of the politicians, Finn recognized this to be Chancellor Indrik Borealis of the Centrist Party. Granted, this was hardly surprising, he concluded, considering the man's bald and scarred appearance.

From what Rey just said, Finn wondered if the man had been caught in the Temple explosion or at the very least, a riot of some kind.

He rose to his feet to address the assembly before him, spreading his arms invitingly with a warm smile, " _My friends, my friends, calm yourselves, will you? We are gathered here to discuss a brewing matter of controversy and infamy permanated by several years, indeed. To threaten each other, even in matters we view to be just and agreeable, are not statutes we should hold ourselves by. Converse, discord and compromise, these are the tenants we should abide by, see? For this reason, I have called to our assembly the predecessor to my position, Leia Organa Solo, to speak her thoughts to the matter. Listen to her we all should, I think."_

"...what the hell is wrong with his voice?" Finn asked incredulously, "And why does he talk like that?"

"Our fault, actually," Shrike shrugged, "like Rey said, he was there when the Yavin Temple got bombed, blew half his damn face off. So in a show of good faith, we put him under the knife to fix 'em up."

"Clearly something went wrong."

"Eh, not our fault the schmuck developed a speech impediment. As for your second question, it's apparently the way his folk talk. Something called Abendane Inversion. Basically, he has a really screwed up sense of syntax. Honestly though, it's not as bad as Master Yoda's."

"I'll take your word for it," suddenly, Finn's eyes went wide, "what's the Admiral's son doing there?"

"What?" Han asked, and Finn pointed to the screen as the cameras all turned to a tall man with fiery red hair and chalk white skin packaged in an all black suit more akin to a military officer than a politician.

"Him. That's Armitage Hux, Admiral Hux's son. What's he doing there?"

"He's an ambassador?" Poe deadpanned.

"No, he's right," Rey pointed out, "why would Borealis allow him to attend a congressional assembly? Isn't that against protocol?"

"No, but it's against tradition," Shrike conceded, "let's find out why."

" _Ah, the good Ambassador Hux here proves a great point of compromise. Yes, that he does. As I said, we shall hear the good words of Organa Solo. But, as is prudent and proper, we should hear the words of the opposition, as it were."_

"...I take back what I said," Shrike groaned, "Yoda's nothing compared to this schmuck."

"I told you it was a bad idea to put him under the knife," Han snorted.

"How in the blazes did this guy get elected?" Rey asked, genuinely flabbergasted.

"That's the mystery we're still tryna solve," Wyatt replied, "I mean, even Fey'lya alone couldn't prod this mule into place."

"Nah, there's no mystery there," Merrick shrugged, "my best guess, the powers that be thought he'd be so ineffective he'd never get anything done. They're not wrong either. As for why people elected him? Well, people are like children. They like a good story."

"And he's a good story?" Poe shook his head, "C'mon dad."

"Think about it. Here's a guy who's stood by his beliefs that war is bad, took an explosion to the face, and keeps going. Even I admit that's a tad inspirational."

"Must have left out the part that he slipped and fell after we got him off the knife," Shrike chuckled, "still, the real reason why to all the whys is probably standing right next to him."

" _Thank you, Chancellor,"_ the camera panned to Hux, who smiled with faux humility to the assembly, " _I admit that my presence here is unorthodox. However, it is due to the unorthodox nature of these various accusations against my sovereign government. I am here to address and hopefully lay them to rest._

" _Nobody is making any accusations, Ambasador,"_ Fenn retorted, " _as I have spent the last ten minutes trying to explain."_

" _With all due respect, Senator Shysa, you are making accusations. That the First Order was involved in the disappearance of your Force-sensitive protectors."_

" _First off, we know it was an attack,"_ Nabrie countered coldly, " _two, we know it was done by a group of red blades. We have several eyewitnesses who confirm this. What we want to confirm is that you are not responsible for the Red blades."_

" _Senator Nabrie, I understand your insistence of wanting to solve this mystery. If we possessed our own army of Force-sensitives who acted as the strong arm of our intergalactic law and they were attacked, I suspect we would feel the same."_

" _You said 'if',"_ Senator Ackbar interrupted, " _are you stating that you have no sanctioned Force-Sensitive organization under your government?"_

" _Allow me to present it this way. Why would we put our trust in a collection of red-blades, as you call them, to handle our internal and foreign affairs when Emperor Palpatine himself was a Sith? A Sith who led our government to ruin?"_

"He's not lying exactly," Finn commented, "the Knights of Ren have no authority of civilian and military side of the government."

"No, but y'all answer to the same boss," Shrike retorted.

" _We are not blind to the atrocities that Palpatine committed under his reign,"_ Hux continued, " _and that alone should tell you what the First Order is. We are not Palpatine's Empire."_

" _Then block any probes on your end?"_ Nabrie retorted, " _If you have nothing to hide-"_

" _Senator, I must remind you are seeking matters of our galactic security. Would it be unreasonable for us to demand that you reveal all your secrets to the public over a matter we have have no proof that you were involved in to begin with? I would certainly say so."_

" _We are not asking for you to compromise your galactic security, Ambassador. What we are asking is that you turn over relative information and assist in an investigation."_

" _To be blunt, Senator, that is not at all what you are asking."_

" _What the hell does that mean?"_ Senator Lyndon growled.

" _I shall make it very simple for this assembly. Approximately a week ago, your New Republic broke the charters of the Concordance by sending an officer of the New Republic Navy into the Neutral Zone on an unsanctioned operation."_

There was a general murmur of shock and surprise in the assembly.

" _I'm assuming you have proof of the matter?"_ Lyndon replied.

" _Yes, I do actually. Chancellor, if I may?"_ Suddenly, holo images appeared in air, " _as you can see, this is a standard T-70 X-Wing whose registrations match up to one Commander Poe Dameron,"_ suddenly a mugshot of Poe himself appeared, " _who we detained on the world of Jakku after he fired upon and killed First Order personnel."_

"Oh hey, I'm on the galactic holonet," Poe chuckled.

"Son, that's probably not important right now," the older Dameron chided him.

"He brought it up. Besides someone has got to point out the First Order's own violation of the charter right next to mine."

As it turns out, that was Shysa next question in particular, " _Sir, what were First Order personnel doin' in the Neutral Zone to begin with?"_

" _Looking for this man,"_ Hux replied, and the image of Lor San Tekka appeared, " _as I have addressed previously, Lor San Tekka and the Antarian Rangers have been operating without oversight in the Neutral Zone and have repeatedly crossed the border into First Order space to interfere in our own local affairs."_

" _So you admit to breaking the charters of the Concordance?"_ Shysa asked.

" _Not at all, Senator Shysa. As is outlined under Article 1, sub-section 3, the First Order is within its rights to pursue criminals and fugitives who cross into our space and flee into the Neutral Zone. Commander Poe Dameron met with Tekka and his Rangers after one of these incursions and just prior to our efforts to apprehend these men. Dameron engaged in unlawful military action against these efforts. For this reason, we arrested him."_

" _Is he within your custody now?"_

" _No. Dameron escaped our custody thanks to the efforts of a deserter, both whom committed tremendous property damage and killed a number of First Order personnel during said escape and during our attempts to apprehend them. Currently, both men are still at large."_

" _Ambassador, you're not assuming that we sanctioned Commander Dameron's actions, are you?"_ The Chancellor asked with apparent surprise.

" _As I said, we believe Dameron's actions were unsanctioned in an official capacity, but were instead given by parties unknown. Senator Shysa, Senator Nabrie, you came before this Assembly to request that an investigation be made into the matter of the Jedi's disappearance. Likewise, I request that the New Republic place a warrant for the arrest of Dameron and the deserter accompanying him, and that an investigation be committed to uncover who authorized his illegal mission."_

The clamor of unsure voices and assistants being called over quickly filled the room as the Chancellor beckoned over the Vice-Chancellor, Sergeant-at-Arms and the Secretary of the Senate. For a minute, the four convened in a silent conversation.

After a moment, he nodded and addressed the assembly, " _We will convene to a special council for this matter after this current session is adjourned. Yes, that we will."_

" _Thank you, Chancellor. Now-"_

" _I'm sorry, but I have to ask,"_ Borsk Fey'lya suddenly interrupted, much to everybody's surprise, " _Lor San Tekka was a respected Archeologist, Scholar and member of the Jedi Council. Hell, I even had the man as a dinner guest once. You say that your forces entered the Neutral Zone to arrest him and some Rangers with him?"_

" _Yes, I did."_

" _Where is he, then? You have yet to provide that answer."_

" _Unfortunately, Lor San and the Rangers accompanying him resisted arrest with lethal force. I do in fact believe that Lor San himself used a Lightsaber to kill 4 Troopers personally. As you can imagine, all efforts to take the man alive were, well, taken."_

" _Get to the point, Hux. What did you do to him?"_

Hux appeared to be a bit vexed how to say the next bit, but he shook his head, " _Lor San Tekka and his cohorts resisted arrest to the last, and we were unfortunately forced to use lethal force."_

" _So, we have no means to corroborate or contradict your side of the story, then?"_ Lyndon grinned wolfishly, " _I find that rather convenient."_

" _We will have another side to the story, Senator Lyndon, as soon as Commander Dameron and those who commanded his illegal actions are brought to justice."_

" _Actually, we do have another side to the story."_

The camera panned as a pod belonging to Lando Calrissian entered the frame.

" _The Chair recognizes the Senator of Anoat Sector. Senator Calrissian, do you have something to add to the matter?"_

" _Not I personally, Vice-Chancellor,"_ Lando replied coolly as he beckoned his arm, " _but I am sure former Chancellor Leia Organa-Solo would."_

Now all the eyes of the galaxy lay on the crowning moment everyone had been waiting for. Leia Organa-Solo, one of the founders of the New Republic, had chosen this very moment to return to the political limelight. The question on everyone's mind was why.

Slowly, the regal form of Leia rose and took the forefront of the pod, smiling in the way in that all-knowing way only she could, " _Thank you, Senator Calrissian. Chancellor, if I may?"_

" _That you may indeed, Counselor."_

Leia nodded and turned to face Hux, her eyes steely resolute, " _Ambassador, you have approached this Senate requesting that an investigation be made into who sent Commander Dameron to the Neutral Zone. I will answer that question for you. I sent him."_

" _So you admit to breaking the charters."_

" _Spare me your legal posturing, Hux,"_ Leia replied coolly, " _this assembly is well aware of your own breaches of the Concordance, and your established excuses for such instances. Besides, I have broken nothing. I am no longer part of the New Republic government, and Commander Poe Dameron was on leave. He was not sent to Jakku in military fashion, but as a personal favor to speak with a friend about a new discovery."_

" _Regardless of his military standing or not, he is still wanted for crimes committed against First Order personnel. If you are harboring him-"_

" _I am not. I honestly haven't the foggiest of where he is, Ambassador. Regardless, as Senator Lyndon was so kind as to point out, we are governed by law and not by emotional responses. If you claim Lor San Tekka and Commander Dameron committed crimes against the First Order, then a neutral, intergalactic court should be established to ascertain measure of guilt. After all, by the articles of the Bastion Convention, Dameron would be allowed such a trial."_

" _I do not disagree, Counselor Organa-Solo,"_ Hux shook his head, " _and I am sure that my superiors would agree to such a trial. However, I must reaffirm my request that a warrant be placed on him, and the deserter accompanying him."_

" _Before, as I said, Ambassador Hux,"_ Chancellor Borealis replied, " _I stated that such a matter would be attended by a special counsel, did I not? So, to reaffirm what was stated, it shall be addressed once this meeting is adjourned."_

" _Yes, I suppose it shall be… indeed,"_ Hux smiled softly.

"Did he just mock the Chancellor?" Rey asked.

"Yeah, I think he did," Poe replied.

"Yeah well, he's weak sauce," Han snorted, "he ain't gonna do anything about it."

" _Counselor Organa,"_ the camera suddenly turned to Borsk Fey'lya, Senator of Bothawui, who had been strangely silent during the entire affair, " _you said earlier that this Poe Dameron was sent to speak to a friend about a new discovery. May I ask for the assembly what that discovery was?"_

" _Certainly, Senator. Sella, if you may. Are any of you familiar with the Rakatan Empire and our war with the Sith faction led by Darth Revan?"_

As she said this, Leia's assistant imputed a command into the holo-projection and a series of holographic projections were brought to the forefront. These included the terrifying species of conquerors and devourers that had enslaved the galaxy thousands of years ago before the days of the Old Republic, and the third Sith Lord that had nearly brought civilization to its knees.

The assembly's reaction was all that Leia needed, " _I thought so. In the days just prior to the Jedi's destruction, Lor San Tekka made an astounding discovery. During the age of the Rakatan, six Star Forges, the automated war foundries that ensured their dominance, were created. Four were destroyed during their fall, the fifth was used and destroyed during the war with Revan. But the sixth? Well, that all but disappeared until Lor San discovered references to it on Jakku."_

This created an uproar almost immediately. " _So you're saying that the sixth Star Forge is still out there?"_ Fey'lya demanded.

" _Yes, as Lor San believed. Commander Dameron was sent to retrieve the evidence of its location."_

" _And you refused to share your discovery with the rest of the galaxy?"_ Hux asked with an air of indignation.

" _Ambassador, I only received word that Lor San had discovered said evidence a few days ago. Besides, I believe you already knew about it."_

" _Another baseless accusation?"_

" _More like an obvious observation. I doubt that any transmission sent from the Neutral Zone wouldn't be monitored by the intelligence services of_ _ **any**_ _government. After all, you yourself admitted that troops were sent to Jakku to apprehend Lor San Tekka."_

" _That is preposterous, Counselor. We had no knowledge of what Lor San discovered, and our arrival was a mere coincidence."_

" _Oh, I am sure. Perhaps when Commander Dameron and this deserter you keep speaking of do come forward, we will know the truth then?"_

" _Regardless,"_ Senator Lyndon retorted, " _the enormity of such a discovery should not have been kept from this assembly, Leia."_

" _She didn't keep it from the assembly, Lyndon,"_ Lando countered, " _she is telling you now, after the man she sent to get the proof was imprisoned by the First Order."_

More uproar followed, and the Vice-Chancellor once again had to bellow for order.

" _Regardless,"_ Hux countered, " _if the Star Forge does exist, then it would logically lie in the Unknown Regions as it hasn't been discovered by anyone else yet. That brings the obvious matter of who it would belong to into question."_

" _And you're saying it belongs to you?"_ Nabrie asked with the edging of an icy accusation.

" _I cannot answer that, Senator, I am merely just an ambassador. However, if it does lie within our territory-"_

" _And what if it lies elsewhere, Ambassador?"_ Fey'lya questioned, " _Say in the territory of the Chiss Empire, or perhaps in the Neutral Zone itself?_ _What then?"_

" _No one power should have complete autonomy over the Forge!"_ Lyndon bellowed, " _We all know its capabilities! This is the thing to knock down this precarious house of cards we sit on! It should be moved to neutral ground with representatives to-"_

" _What? Have all nations get access to it?"_ Lando shook his head, " _Would you like Zhan's Confederation or the Hutts getting a piece of it? Have we all forgotten how Zhan tried to steal the Eclipse Dreadnought for his own ends?"_

" _Why shouldn't they?"_ a Kuatian Senator challenged, " _If no one government should have complete control, then all should regardless of their disposition."_

" _Honestly?"_ Shysa countered, " _I propose the Forge be destroyed the moment it is found. As Lyndon pointed out, it is too dangerous for anybody to have."_

" _You would destroy a piece of technology that could revolutionize the galaxy?"_ Hux asked with hurtful surprise, " _Imagine what this could do for the poorer sectors of the galaxy. This could eliminate resource shortages-"_

" _Or be used for war,"_ Leia countered, " _regardless, Lyndon is correct. The Forge is far too dangerous to be in the hands of any one nation."_

" _Counselor, I must ask though,"_ Hux put in, " _if the Forge is discovered and it does lie in our territory or at least close to it, would you attempt to seize it from us by force?"_

" _Do we need a reason to, Ambassador? If the Forge is found, then it should be handed over."_

" _With all due respect, Counselor, how do we know we can trust the New Republic when its own former Chancellors sends military personnel into the Neutral Zone to seize evidence of this super weapon? Let me ask you this: had everything gone according to your plan and you had found the Forge first, would you have shared it with the rest of the galaxy?"_

" _I guess we won't know now, will we?"_ Leia replied sardonically, " _Regardless, we should-"_

Leia suddenly stopped, her eyes becoming incredulous and shocked for a perilous moment like she was in a trance.

" _Counselor?"_ Hux asked, " _Are you alright?"_

She didn't say anything, she just continued to stare out into space even as Lando and Sella tried to shake her out of it.

"Leia," Han whispered, his face becoming pale, "what are you seeing?"

The camera focused on her face, her expression unchanged and unmoving. Then she whispered something so silently that even the droids advanced sensor couldn't pick it up. To Han Solo, however, he didn't have to hear what she said. He read it in her lips, and it was something that made his heart skip.

 _Cale?_

Suddenly, her face became frantic. She became a blur of movement as she grabbed Lando and Sella, and drove them down into the pod. A moment later, the camera shook as a thundering roar echoed through the room. The camera turned just in time to see an explosion rip through the roof of the Senate building.

Screams filled the air as debris start falling enmass. Then there was a second explosion and third, and the droid was engulfed in fire before the feed went dead.

"Oh stars," Rey gasped, "what just… did that just…?"

Finn's face grew hard, "They've made their first move."

* * *

 **Omake**

* * *

"Chancellor Borealis, if I may ask the applicability of our laws regarding Ambassador Hux?"

"Apply, they do… but why do you ask-"

"I challenge Hux to a duel!"

"Fine, but I choose the weapons."

"Deal!"

"I choose flame-projectors!"

"Now wait just a second. I challenge you to a fair duel, not a suicide match!"

"This is a fair duel, we'll both have flame-projectors!"

"...I withdraw my demand for a duel."

"Good!"


	39. Chapter 32 - Mortality

**Chapter 37 - Mortality**

* * *

 **Takodana**

 **The Jedi Temple**

* * *

" _The death toll remains unaccounted for, but estimates are believed to be in the hundreds. Rescue teams are still attempting to comb through the ruins of the upper levels Senate building, looking for any possible survivors._

" _Chancellor Borealis is confirmed to have survived the explosion, however Vice-Chancellor Villecham as well as many other political officials remain unaccounted for._

" _The Minister of State has declared a state of emergency and all traffic coming in and out of Chandrila have been restricted to Government and aid personnel only. Citizens of the planet are advised to remain calm and not to attempt to vacate the planet. Violators will be detained._

" _The Executive Press Secretary has stated that while no suspects behind the assumed bombing have been found, investigations are still ongoing. However, warrants for the apprehension of Leia Organa-Solo, and any Ranger and associated personnel on Chandrila have been issued. If the public has any information regarding their whereabouts-"_

Chewbacca suddenly growled for someone to shut off the damn news broadcast, punctuating his point by slamming his wroshyr prosthetic into the table. Quickly someone obliged, knowing better than to anger a grieving wookie. Chewbacca then growled a question down at his human companion, but Han Solo wasn't listening.

Through the holographic projection transmitted from a Ranger Blockade Runner, he watched as the medical personnel were plugging his wife-his dying wife who had nearly been crushed by a falling ceiling-into a medical pod. A breathing tube was put down her throat, the machine having to pump air into her body for her as restraints and cushioners were installed to keep her body still and unmoving.

The air was filled with the rhythmic beating of her BPM's spiking up and down, Han Solo's own breathing becoming ragged as he clenched the arms of his chair with white-knuckled hands. He had to resist every urge to scream the obvious damn questions; to run to the Falcon and go to her. He knew it wouldn't help but...

He sighed exhaustively, shaking his head as he dread within him was the same one when Leia was almost taken from him on Cloud City; when the last thoughts he had before being frozen in carbonite was that he was never going to see her again. Now, here she was, barely clinging to life as air had to be fed to her via a respirator.

Someone had tried to kill his wife, and she was beyond his ability to help.

"First my son, then Luke, and now Leia," he whispered scornfully, his hands clenched into fists, "what the hell do you want with me? What more can you take from me?"

" _Captain Solo? Are you alright, sir?"_ Han looked up to find a holographic C-3PO looking across at him. Normally, Han would've told the goldrod to shut up and leave him the hell alone, but he didn't have the energy or the willingness to.

"Am **I** alright?" he asked with a scoff, "What about her?"

" _It's too early to tell, unfortunately,"_ 3PO replied with some hesitancy, " _but the doctors here are confident."_

"Of what? That she'll pull through?" Han snapped, "Can you tell me that at least, professor?"

" _I…"_ 3PO shook his head, " _I don't know."_

"Then what do you know?" Han growled, rising to his feet and coming face to face with the droid to glower down at him. Normally, 3PO would've slunk away in fear, but not this time. If he had a normal organic face, Han concluded, 3PO would glaring back.

" _I know this, Captain Solo. I know that we are safe, that we have escaped Chandrilla's blockade unharmed, that Princess Leia is in the best care she could possibly be in, and that no matter what happens, I will not leave her side. On that, you have my word."_

Han stared at the reflective gold-plated droid, his craggy face staring back at him. After a moment, he chuckled softly at the oddity of the situation. Who knew it would take a crisis for 3PO to grow a spine?

"I know you will, 3PO. Thank you."

"Sir?" a Ranger appeared at the doorway, "The Boss wants you in the war-room."

Han nodded. "Keep me apprised, 3PO."

" _Of course, Captain Solo."_

As the holographic projection faded out, Han casted a lasting look at the one and only woman who had made an honest man out of him. Well, maybe not too honest, if his scoundrel heart was anything to go by.

"I'll be back, honey. Stay in there."

* * *

" _I'll be quite honest,"_ the holographic projection of Lando ran his hand across his hair, grimacing, " _the only reason me and 3PO are alive is because Leia was there to keep the ceiling from falling on us. I can't say the same for everybody else though."_

" _That bad, huh?"_ Antilles snorted, " _I knew this was a bad idea from the beginning. Putting all our eggs in that giant target of a basket?"_

"She knew the risk, Wedge," Han replied, looking over at Shrike, "any idea who was behind this?"

"That should be pretty obvious," he answered, blowing dragonsfire into the void, "when confronted with a mystery, ask this: who has the most to gain?"

"So Armitage Hux, then?" Rey asked, "I suppose he would be the obvious choice. But the man was standing right next to Villecham when the place lit up and the holonet reported him still missing."

"Knowing a bomb's about to blow in advance gives a little credence on how best to get out of the way, kiddo," Shrike countered, "but the question still stands: what do they have to benefit from blowing up the Senate building?"

" _Well, the planet's pretty much locked down,_ " Lando replied, " _I can't get off, and neither can any of the other Senators, Representatives or even military personnel. We were honestly lucky to have even gotten Leia off planet before the curtain dropped."_

" _What about the Ackbars and Hera?"_ Antilles asked.

" _Leia had them leave planet just in case something happened. Still, considering an APB's been put out on basically everybody she associated with in the last couple of days-"_

"Does that include you?" Han asked.

" _At the moment, no. But considering they're not letting me leave, and I've got security trying to bend every law to figure out what me and Leia were up to? Well, I suppose you can figure the rest out."_

"What about Shysa and Nabrie? Or even Fey'lya for that matter?"

" _I honestly don't know, or even if they're still alive. They're not letting me talk to anybody. Hell, I'm just lucky power-of-attorney hasn't been suspended yet. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to talk to you now."_

" _So what was this? A hit?"_ Antilles pondered, " _Get everybody when they're in the same room and take out half the government while they're at it?"_

"You mean while Grand Admiral Hux's son is in the same room?" Rey countered, "From what I've seen, the First Order doesn't like to waste lives and I don't think they have the luxury to do so anyway."

"Besides, there are better ways to pull off a hit like this than to just bring the ceiling down," Han looked over at Lando and shook his head, "this almost feels like something Jabba would do if he wanted to send a message."

Lando nodded at the thought, " _What was it he used to say? 'Chaos presents the best time for opportunity.' Regardless, me and just about everybody is stuck here and the galaxy's in complete turmoil."_

" _So what's next? An invasion? Maybe a strike to the Core Now would be the time to do it."_

"Not yet, Wedge," Shrike countered, "this isn't the opening move, this is posturing; redirection. It's not a coincidence they did this right when Leia told the whole galaxy about the Forge, or after they failed to get the last piece in the chase. No, they're setting up **the** opening move."

"So what do we do?" Rey suddenly inquired, all eyes turning to her, "I mean, we can go back and forth on who did and why all we like, but is that really important? It happened. So what are we going to do about it?"

" _We need to get the Forge,"_ Wedge answered promptly, " _that's what this is all about. We find and secure it. Without it, the First Order will have to back down from whatever hell they're thinking about unleashing. How close are we to deciphering that last piece?"_

"Hours. A day at most. Well have it on a hard copy soon. But," Shrike sighed, letting the smoke trail out of his mouth, "this goes deeper than that."

" _What do you mean?"_ Lando asked.

"I don't believe in coincidences. Under Borealis, Antiga happened, the Jedi were snuffed out, and now this. Lando, does Borealis strike you as an outright incompetent man?"

" _Honestly? No. He's many things, but incompetent isn't one of 'em. He was always sure of what he wanted and how he was going to get it."_

"And what does he want?"

" _His own words? Peace in our time."_

"And how far do you feel he would go to ensure we get peace in our time?"

Realization crossed Lando's face like he'd been hit by lightning, " _You're not planning another coup, are you? The Republic barely survived the last one you pulled."_

"No, not exactly a coup," he twirled the pipe in his hand as he pondered his answer, "the First Order have ironically given us the means to remove Borealis and his cabinet legally. After all, Article 1 of the Constitution states that in the case of the Chancellor and Vice-Chancellor being deemed unfit, incompacitated or dead, then a new Chancellor would have to be selected. Leia would be on the short list, considering she's an ex-Chancellor."

"Now wait just a blazing second!" Han exclaimed, "My wife is barely on the medical table, fighting just to stay alive, and you're talking about plopping her right back in her old job that almost got her killed in the first place!? Also, what happens when Borealis refuses to cede power? What then?"

"Simple, we make him."

"How? By storming the Senate building like you did last time?"

"If it comes to it. We don't have the luxury of time or being artful. We need to be back on our feet before the schmucks knock down our door. And that means putting the right person in charge when it happens."

" _And what about after?"_ Lando replied, " _Look, I'm not dismissing what you're saying. I agree that Leia's the best person for the job, but think about it. Her legitimacy, and the legitimacy of the New Republic is going to be laid out by what we do now. Forcefully removing a Chancellor? That's not something you can easily walk away from."_

"We did last time, and that was a threat a lot closer to home."

Han scoffed at that, "You mean after you threw a man out a window? You ever wonder if you going rogue, everybody else be damned, is actually the right way of doing things? How many things have actually gone right because of it?"

"And what the hell would you suggest, smuggler? Let a traitor remain in office?"

"Master, we have no proof of that," Rey began but Shrike cut her off sharply.

"We had no proof Palpatine was Sidious, but the signs were there. And by the time we got to moving against him, it was already too late and billions died. I'll be damned if I'm letting that happen again."

"Yes, but think about it, Master. Lor San taught us that Palpatine played the Jedi right into confronting him, and that very act was enough to damn the Old Order. What if the same happens here?"

"The alternative is letting the enemy come to us, Knight. If we give ground now, they will never stop taking ground. First Coruscant, then everywhere else. We need to stop them here and now before it starts."

" _There is something else to consider, gentlemen,"_ Antilles interrupted, " _I'll be the first to admit that the last few decades have stained the New Republic legitimacy. I mean, we lost half the Outer Rim to criminals and we've mismanaged our fair share of brush fires and crisis. If the First Order gets the Core and the Forge, and we do nothing? Well, what happens when people lose faith in their government? They walk."_

" _Wedge, this isn't the same as 'doing nothing,'"_ Lando retorted, " _but we've got to consider how we do this and when. As you just said, our legitimacy is on the line, and an illegitimate coup is about as damaging as doing nothing. You're right in that we've made some very public mistakes, but we need to win back trust or otherwise we're just a bunch of criminals."_

"As I said," Shrike snorted, "we don't have time for months of Senate debate. We either move now, or let the enemy take the initiative."

"Let them take the initiative," Han suddenly said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly that. The First Order want the Forge so badly? Make 'em fight for it. Let them make the first move and show the whole galaxy what they're really on about."

"Take away their moral high ground?" Rey asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah. Shrike's got a point about Hux there. The whole reason he was there was to paint the First Order as being the victim in all this, especially when he posed the question about the Forge being in their territory. I say we use that against them."

" _So, paint the First Order as the bad guys,"_ Wedge nodded, " _and public opinion will force Borealis to either confront the problem or step down."_

Slowly, Shrike nodded at the formulating plan, "That might work."

"It **will** work," Han reiterated, "because as much as the First Order's put us into a corner, they've also put themselves on a road with only two ways: war or back, and they can't go to war without the Forge."

"But what do we do at the moment?" Rey asked, "I mean, this is all long term we're talking about. What should we do now?"

" _I for one am planning on the 'schmucks' showing up here any time now,"_ Wedge stated, " _I've been having my analysts going over what Commander Dameron told us of how the First Order's been operating. I'll have my fleet running combat drills, just in case."_

" _Would they even know where to look?"_ Lando asked.

" _The Empire found us on Hoth, remember? I'm not planning on being caught with our pants down again."_

"Agreed," Shrike replied, "and we'll do the same on the ground. We need to be ready to move as soon as our cartographers finish deciphering the last piece."

"What about Leia?" Han inquired, "Is there anywhere we can take her where she'll be safe?"

" _Considering what happened here on the_ _ **capital world**_ _, Han? She's better off staying on that ship, 'cause I doubt anywhere is safe at this point,"_ Lando suddenly turned his head to the side, talking to some off screen before he turned back again, " _I gotta go. I'll contact you again as soon as I can."_

As his holographic form dissipated, Wedge nodded in concurrence, " _And I need to get to moving my fleet. I doubt I'm needed much here anymore anyway,"_ and his hologram flickered out.

"So, I suppose that leaves me, then," Rey said aloud, "What are my orders?"

"The same one as before, Knight. Train."

* * *

" _Are you certain? Damn. My son, thank you for the news… as bleak as it is."_

Armitage Hux, Ambassador of the First Order, waited patiently for Chancellor Indrik Borealis to finish his latest round of emergency holo-calls. Judging by the despondent look on the man's scarred face, Armitage already knew what the news was but decided to ask anyway.

"Trouble?"

" _Indeed, trouble. The Vice-Chancellor was found a few minutes ago. Deceased."_

"I'm so sorry, Chancellor," Armitage replied with faux-sympathy, "I didn't know Lenevar long, but he was a good man."

Borealis didn't reply, he just sat there over his desk with his head hung. Hux imagined it would've only been sadder if it were raining, like in those sappy tragedies the Republic media was into these days. The thought almost made him puke, but the sickly expression just made him all the more convincing.

"Chancellor, please allow me to extend a sincere apology for this days tragic events. If there is anything the First Order can do to alleviate this crisis-"

" _I should have known."_

"I beg your pardon?"

Borealis turned to face him, his saddened expression turned into rage. " _You understand how I got these scars, yes?"_

"You were protesting the Jedi on Yavin when their Temple was bombed."

" _And do you know why I protested them, hmm?"_

Of course he knew, but he didn't show it. Instead, he just shrugged his shoulders. Borealis sighed and slumped into a chair heavily.

" _When people think of the Jedi, they think of Luke Skywalker. They see heroes, protectors. People with magic powers. Think of anything else though? I doubt they ever do. Too easy for them not to, probably. They like good stories."_

"And what do you see, Chancellor?"

" _Vigilantes. That's what I thought of them then, more so now. Not heroes at all, but boundless people with powers who think themselves the law while ignoring the actual law. What they leave behind when they do their heroics, they never seem to care. Applaud them for being brave, the people do, but that's what they do for all celebrities. Not that special, I think."_

"It's funny you say this considering they were the ones who saved your life on Yavin."

" _Yes, conflicting that makes it. For a time I wondered if I was wrong about them. But just a month later, my fears about them were all but confirmed when those Wannabes who follow them around like good pups staged a coup. A coup with no legal authority, I should stress."_

"Some people say they were justified. What with the Chimera and all."

" _Perhaps so, but that is the problem. The Jedi view the law as being a hinderance, a thing to ignore. If it were anybody else, or if you replaced green and blue swords with red, people would see them as tyrants. Luke Skywalker again is the reason they do not. Heroes,"_ he scoffed at the word, " _not much would turn them into villains. Worse still was after."_

"After?"

" _Oh, when they left the government, of course. Under powerful people like Mothma, they could be controlled. Forced to obey the law, like they should. But on their own they did as they please, and probably would still if they were still here. I mean, how many times did they work against the very government the people they protect voted in? In an indirect way, they worked against the people. But too stupid they are to see that."_

"That's a little harsh, Chancellor. I mean, many of the people I've spoken to, even in your party, agreed that the Jedi are necessary."

" _Necessary? Oh, I disagree with that. As extreme as the Chimera were, they were right, too. Look at the track record, you should. Force-Sensitives in our long history have started many of the galaxy's wars and founded three of it's most terrible governments. The most recent one was Palpatine, and he came to be because of the Jedi."_

"Some would say that the Jedi were responsible for Palpatine's fall. Luke Skywalker after all-"

" _Would not be necessary if it were not for his predecessors blunders. That's the thing, you see? The Old Republic relied on them like a crutch, had them solve all their problems while they became weak in turn. Like it or not, the Jedi held power without checks, without balance. Look where that ended up, hmm?"_

"Perhaps you judge **them** too harshly. The Jedi helped found the Republic and kept them in power for 25,000 years."

" _Surprised I am that you would be defending them, Ambassador Hux."_

"I'm just playing Sith's Advocate, Chancellor. I learned a long time ago that it is important to understand the other side's argument."

" _Oh, I understand perfectly. Judge, Jury and Executioner, they view themselves to be, especially of those they view to be evil. They would tuck us into our bed, tell us we'll be alright and safe, but what happens when they think you not their definition of good? As I said, nobody is above the law, nor should anybody be. Especially for those with powers."_

'And you wonder why they don't trust you.' Armitage thought to himself with no small amount of ironic satisfaction. "And you think this relates to Leia Organa-Solo?"

" _As unfortunate as it is, I do. She breaks intergalactic law to pursue not only her interests, but those of her Jedi. She would no doubt plunge the galaxy into war if it meant slaying her imaginary dragons in you, Ambassador."_

"Surely you don't think she's behind this bombing?"

" _That I cannot say, but until the truth is found, she is a suspect. She and her compatriots will be apprehended for the time being, and her vacating the world makes the matter all the more suspicious."_

"Well, a ceiling was dropped on her head."

" _On ours, too. Ambassador, someone killed my best friend. Until the truth is found out, I shall not rest nor leave any stone unturned. I was elected on the promise of peace in our time, and I will uphold it."_

"The things we do in the name of peace, Chancellor," Armitage nodded, "what of my situation? I have been questioned already by police forces, and the First Order will want me back in light of the recent situation. I can't remain in the consulate forever."

" _All in good time, my friend. Now, I have matters to attend. We shall speak soon."_

"Of course, Chancellor," and as the hologram flickered out to leave the Ambassador alone in his office, he couldn't help but laugh. There was no one to hear him, after all.

"'Peace in our time.' Ha."

Suddenly, his holocom began blaring and he tapped the responder to see his secretary on the line, "What is it?"

" _Sir, you have a red-line call."_

"Ah, I see. Have all the signals been confirmed and checked?"

The Secretary nodded her head as the coded phrase, " _The line is encoded, sir. It's a Naval frequency, top-clearance."_

Armitage sighed at the news, "Of course it is. Send it through."

" _Yes sir."_

Armitage Hux ran a hand through his slicked red hair, preparing himself for yet another of his father's lectures, nevermind the good work that had just been achieved. It greatly surprised him then when not only Grand Admiral Ramius Hux appeared before him, but also Captains Phasma and Sydow, and most surprising of all, Kylo Ren.

"Well, this is quite the curious meeting. I expected you, father, but not everyone else here."

" _Blame me,"_ Kylo Ren answered, " _I felt it important that everyone affected by what you just did attend this meeting."_

"What I just did, Lord Ren? I haven't the foggiest idea of what you mean."

" _Son, do us all a favor and stow it,"_ Ramius snorted, " _this is an encoded call. We know you were responsible for the bombing."_

"And what if I was?" the younger Hux grinned, "Would it surprise you that my plan was run up all the way to your precious high command and approved on all counts?"

" _And why were we not informed, Armitage?"_ Phasma asked imploringly, " _Your operation directly impacts_ _ **our**_ _operation regarding the Star Forge. Only Lord Ren knew inklings of your plan. Your father had clearance, and by extension so do I. Why didn't you tell us?"_

"I will make it very simple for you, Phasma. You were not told because matters of my Department do not concern you. Your mission remains unchanged."

" _Oh, I beg to differ, Ambassador,"_ Sydow snorted, " _you just bombed the Senate Building."_

"And?"

" _You just poked the dragon."_

"Forgive me for not understanding your analogy," Armitage growled, his patience wearing thin.

" _Allow me to dumb it down for you, laddie. As I understand it, yer goals center around securing the Forge and a great deal of the Core, which I suspect be part of some secession movement. Well, now you've just poked the New Republic in the face. What happens when they bite back?"_

"They're not going to, Captain, at least not with the idiot in charge. Oh, there will be noise, but he'll keep matters calm and controlled long enough that it honestly won't matter. Appeasement and peace in our time and all that."

" _What exactly did you hope to achieve here, Armitage?"_ Phasma asked.

"Simple. I've just given the fool Borealis enough of an excuse to ensure that Leia and her supporters will be unable to stop us. After all, a great deal can be done in a state of national emergency."

" _Oh, I think yer goin' to be greatly surprised, laddie. These are the same people who toppled your pappies bosses, no offense, Admiral."_

"No, they're not. This is the same government after all that turned a blind eye to all the Jedi's problems. I dare say they even toasted when the Jedi were wiped off the galactic map. You honestly expect them to stop us at this point?"

" _I'm not talkin' about some suits and speeches, laddie. I'm talking about the folk with guns and fire in their bellies. When they fight, so will everybody else."_

"Hmm, I see. Well, I have only one thing to say to you, pirate. Do your job. Bring us the Forge."

" _I'll do my job. I'm just pointin' out yer on the fast track to losing."_

"We'll see. And what of you, Phasma. Any aged, barbarian advice for me?"

" _Just this, Armitage. Any foe who shows his hand normally loses it."_

"Fascinating. Are we done here? I actually have a great deal of work to finish here."

" _Admiral?"_ Phasma asked.

" _You're dismissed. I need to speak to my son alone."_

" _Yes sir,"_ and she and Sydow both disappeared.

The Admiral turned his head to look at the still standing Kylo Ren. " _That goes for you too, son."_

" _As you wish. I already got what I came here for."_

As the Lord of Ren turned and flickered out of sight, Ramius sighed exhaustively as he addressed his son. " _Who authorized the mission, Armitage?"_

"I have no recollection, Admiral. It went through quite a few people, I'd imagine."

" _Stop it,"_ Ramius growled, slamming his fist into the arm of his chair before jutting a finger at him, " _I've tolerated your insolence and meddling in the past, but that was because you never actively sought to impede upon my operations. Now you have, and you will answer my question."_

"I'm afraid I don't answer to you, father. At least, not in these matters."

" _You're an officer in the First Order Navy."_

"Technically I'm an Ambassador first. So, I answer to the Home Secretary."

" _Oh I see. More of your black projects, hmm? You're no better than the rebels I fought under the Empire."_

"Well, maybe you all should've learned something from Saw Garrera. After all, violence is the supreme authority. Nothing is gained without it, and it takes decisive violence to achieve the greatest gains."

" _How? By turning the galaxy against us? We're supposed to be better than that, son. Under the Empire and Palpatine, we-"_

"Lost sight of what was important? Yes yes, I've heard that a thousand times now."

" _No, that was not what I was going to say. Under the Empire and Palpatine, we were just as brutal. Everywhere we went, we created our enemy. They grew stronger as our gripped tightened, and you are acting just like them."_

"And that's the problem. You and the rest of the Empire failed to understand that you were at war the moment the Empire was declared. That everyone who disagreed with your rule were enemies, not subjects. You instead treated them like disobedient children, even after they destroyed the Death Star."

" _It was that sort of talk that lost us Endor."_

"Well perhaps if the Emperor had just treated Luke Skywalker as an enemy to be dispatched, perhaps things would've turned out differently."

" _You weren't there."_

"I don't need to be. I have hindsight and the understanding that people like you lost us the war. I'm just simply doing what you lack the courage to."

" _As Sydow said, all you did was poke a dragon."_

"Poke? I dealt the New Republic a wound they will never recover from. Oh, there will be people who wish to fight, but they will be held back by those who wish for peace. By the time the dogs of war are loosed, it will be too late, and the measures those dogs would've had to go to will finish the job for us. They barely survived their last coup, afterall."

" _Arrogance is unbecoming, son. I taught you better."_

"You taught me? Hmm, I think you're more occupied with your blond pet than me, father."

" _That's not true at all."_

Armitage laughed at that, "Isn't it? Well, she's certainly turned out better than I did in your eyes, father."

Ramius shook his head at that, " _When are you going to grow up and take responsibility for yourself? You can't blame me forever. You made your own choices."_

"We all start somewhere, father. Now, don't you have a Forge to find?"

" _We're not done here."_

"Yes, we are. Goodbye, father," he turned around, pressing a receiver button and his father's image faded out. Snorting out an annoyed breath, Armitage key his comm, "Katlyn, can you please bring up some of that Aquillan Wine? I'm in desperate need of good spirits."

" _Of course, sir. I shall send someone up your way."_

"Thank you. Are there any other calls?"

" _None at the moment."_

"Good, keep it that way," he replied, rubbing his hands into his aching eyes, "if there are any, tell them I am indisposed."

" _Of course, sir."_

A moment later, another consulate staff came into the room. Armitage eyed the woman keenly, smiling at the fine product of the First Order's breeding program. As she handed him a tray with a bottle and glass, he grinned up at the woman. "Your name is Dejan, is it not?"

She smiled, "That it is, sir."

"I thought so. I may need your assistance in a stressful matter later in the day. You wouldn't mind coming in to assist me?"

She smiled again, "Of course, sir."

She turned turned and walked out the door, Armitage watching her go with a wolfish grin. Sometimes, it truly paid to have this job, even with the matters he had to deal with-

" _Ambassador, there is another blue-line call for you."_

"Katlyn, I told you. No more-"

" _Sir, it's got high-level authorization."_

"How high?"

" _Lord level, sir."_

'Again? Lord Kylo wants to talk to me again?' Armitage thought, finding the whole matter strange. Still, he poured himself a glass and shrugged his shoulders, "Send it through."

Behind him, he heard the the hologram flicker on and he swiveled in his chair to meet the masked man, his glass of wine held in his hand. "Lord Kylo, I didn't expect to see you so short-"

Inexplicably, Armitage felt a sudden stab of pain in his chest so powerful that his body began to uncontrollably spasm as his glass fell to the floor. His hands clawed feverishly at his chest, suddenly finding himself unable to even breathe. Everything felt hot, like his body was on fire.

"Wha-!?" was all he managed to get out before the sound of thundering blood in his brain became all he could hear. Even as his mind grew faint however, he still chanced a look down at the man he realized was killing him. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw at his hip his hand locked in a clenching movement.

Immediately, Armitage went for the frequency shut-off button. He got no less than 3 inches from it when his hand suddenly stopped and was suddenly slammed into the metal desk like as though an invisible weight forced it down. The sudden pain was staggering but brief, until he felt a growing pressure on his hand forcing it into the table.

"N...no!" he gasped. The pressure increased, and Armitage felt the all-too-familiar sensation of bones starting to fracture, like little hot knives stabbing into them. White in his vision was soon replaced by black, and Armitage felt his whole world slipping away.

Then like that, it all came back. The pressure released, Armitage stumbled out of his chair onto the floor and struggled desperately to breathe once more. Even so, his chest still felt as though someone had put a lead weight where his heart was, and every pulse of it made his ribs scream.

" _I want you to remember this moment, Armitage,"_ he heard in his ear. He turned just slightly right, and found Kylo Ren kneeling in front of him; Armitage's face staring back at him from the man's cold obsidian visor. He had never seen himself so afraid than in that moment.

" _I want you to remember, even in your most private of moments, that if I ever wish or you provoke me, your life is mine. And there is nothing you can do, nowhere you can run that I cannot find you."_

"Why?" Armitage croaked, "The Forge?"

" _I don't care about the Forge. That is your government's goal, not mine. You went after someone I personally care about. Consider this a warning, Armitage, because next time I won't be so forgiving."_

His image flickered out, leaving Armitage Hux alone with the sudden understanding of his own mortality. He did not like the feeling.

* * *

 **Update from the Authors:**

* * *

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Squasher here and we have three points to address.

First, we apologize for uploading the chapter a week late, but this was done due to Squasher being on Vacation and me finishing up my summer job. Because of this, we fell behind on our backlog and we needed to buy ourselves some extra time to get caught up.

Second, we want to thank you for the wave of reviews we've been getting for the story. Namely, we want to thank Terminator57, Transformers g1's-Prime, SWEULover2007, We'retheDesperateMeasures-ODST, Networkruler, Charles123, and Alexeij for y'all's reviews.

Finally, the Guest's question: "While I do not remember if you addressed this, did Leia forbid Anakin from talking to her son like she does in canon? Does she talk to him?"

Answer: Leia has long since come to terms with her biological father, which means she did not forbid Anakin from speaking to Cale. The reason for Anakin not showing up to talking to him (or any of the other ghosts for that matter) is that an external force is purposely blocking this connection. As Leia describes in Chapter 15, the Force has become a murky sea she cannot navigate. In short, someone is doing some serious Force Bullshitery.

Also, the next chapter will be published August 18th.


	40. Chapter 33 - Malevolence

**Chapter 38 - Malevolence**

* * *

 **High Orbit of Vardoss**

 ** _Providence-_ Class Dreadnought _Scarlet Night_**

* * *

Captain Phasma was dimly aware of the world around her: the movement of bridge personnel, the bellowing of orders, and even the tight apprehension of the last stages of military preparation. Yet, it was all just noise to her, or really a lack of it. An idle thing that slid into the background of her mind, as if the world had been muted so that she could hear herself think.

In truth, she wasn't really thinking about one thing in particular. It was a clutter of memories. Some provided a rare happiness that almost brought a smile to her lips, but most stung of regret, that most bitter fruit.

She looked up then, either to stare out the bridge's viewport into the void of space ahead or perhaps at her forlorn face. She didn't honestly know.

"Something on your mind?" she heard Sydow say behind her.

She sighed as she closed her eyes, "That obvious, hmm?"

She felt him brush past her shoulder to stand next to her, his reflection staring at her. "You only make that face when you are thinkin', and often none-too-pleasant either."

She chuckled at that, "Just a couple of days and you've got me figured out?"

He smiled, "Because you're that simple, lass. You haven't a deceptive bone in your body."

"Perhaps you just haven't seen it yet."

"Nah. I've only ever known liars. It makes the honest stand out."

"Perhaps it does," she whispered.

"Armitage?"

"Yes… and no. I'm not so much thinking about what he did, but more of why. And even my own part to play in all of it. He… Armitage wasn't always like that."

"You mean he didn't blow up buildings every bloody Primeday? Hmm, I'm actually imagining a baby-version of him blowing up anthills and the like," Phasma's chuckle made him look at her curiously, "what? Am I close?"

"Possibly."

"I take it you had something to do with that?"

"Possibly. The little brat did get me into a great deal of trouble over the years, but I never really regretted any of it."

"But now you do?"

"I don't know. I think some part of me feels that way… no, it's stupid."

"What? You got more attention from the old man? You think that motivate the ginger to blow up a building?" She looked sideways at him and he just shrugged, "I get to insult me own kind, thank you very much."

"Well, it's not just that. You know what it's like to command, to hold the lives of so many in your fingers and if you slip just once? That was Ramius when I met him on Parnassos. He was a man wracked with worry. As if he had a million things to do, but only one at a time."

"I suppose anyone tryin' to build a nation would be."

"Yes. It made it hard for him to raise his son. It was even worse considering he was a bastard, and not many uppers respected that. No offense."

"None taken. And that's when you came in?"

She nodded, "He tried, Sydow. Believe me, he tried to be the best father he could. But I think it was the fact that Armitage was both a Hux and not that made him what he was. He tried to outgrow Ramius' shadow, and even mine to an extent. Yet, perhaps he questioned if he was even worthy of trying. So, he abandoned what we taught him in exchange for a way out."

"Or it could be he just likes blowing up buildings and there was nothing you could do."

"I could've done **something** , Sydow."

"Like what?"

She didn't have an answer. She just continued to stare at her reflection, and Sydow scoffed silently. "That's your problem right there. You're honest with everyone except one: you."

Her eyes shone cold at that, "What do you mean by that, pirate?"

"Simple. You think you can fix everyone by being mum. But yer bein' dishonest if you really think you can. I told you this with Cardinal and Eighty-Seven: you can't save everyone, because you don't control what they do."

"I…" she had to fight her damndest to keep her tears in check, but she was only partly successful as her voice cracked a bit, "I'm starting to wonder if I'm cursed."

"No such thing, love."

"Is it? Look at my record, Sydow. You think it's all coincidence?"

"I stand by what I said. They all made their choices, based on what they wanted and how far they were willin' to go to get it; regardless of what you would've done for them."

She didn't say anything. She just stared at the deck plating for a long stretching moment before she finally she shook her head. "You must think me a fool, don't you?"

"No," he smiled as he placed a hand on her armored shoulder, "yer many things, love, but a fool is not one. Granted what we're about to try is a bit foolhardy and you're in for the ride, so mebbe that will change."

She smiled facetiously at him, "You never did say how you planned to overcome a New Republic Squadron, commanded by a war hero I should add; a Jedi Fortress World housing the second largest bastion of their paramilitaries; and ultimately acquire the last piece of the puzzle."

"Oh that's easy, Phasma. When confronted by a lock, you have three choices. You can find a key, attempt to jimmy it, or," he extended a finger to a section of the space ahead, "take a hammer to it."

A few moments later, the emphasis to his point arrived in system, utterly consuming Phasma's gaze and attention.

"That is one big hammer. How and where did you find it, and why does it exist?"

Sydown grinned wolfishly at her, "You didn't really think the Seps just built two, did you? As for where and how? Well, take a good look at me fleet. Do you really think I couldn't something **that** big or inconspicuous?"

"Heh, I suppose not. You know they're going to be ready for this, considering their encounters with similar ships during the Black Fleet Crisis?"

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

* * *

"I find this rather surprising."

Finn watched as Rey cocked her head at him amusingly, her very subtle movements taking the pre-steps to a full combat stance. He especially noted the way she held her staff behind her back, hiding any telegraphy she might hint to him.

"And why is that my apprentice?" she asked with an inviting smile, Finn stiffening somewhat at the title, "You think we Jedi are a bunch of pacifists who sit around and meditate on our feelings?"

"I didn't say that," Finn replied, carefully treading the stone courtyard as he moved in what Phasma had called the pole distance. In his mind, he viewed the ground he and Rey shared in the form of rings, each one representing the reach of a different style of weapon and by extension combat.

From where he stood, he stood in the middle ring. This was the distance of about several yards, and from the way Rey was moving both with and away from him, she recognized this fact too. She had a polearm, he had a sword, and that would necessitate him getting closer.

"But you were thinking it," Rey replied, switching her pole from behind her to the side as she paced in the unseen circle they were walking, "and I've heard the stereotype before."

Finn followed her in a clockwise fashion, his saber held loose but not too loose. "I suppose it's part of it, I admit. I just didn't imagine my first day of training with you would be by dueling."

She shrugged her shoulders, Finn tensing just slightly in case she decided to move on him. "It's how I was trained. Before I learned how to levitate stone or anything like that, my master taught me how to fight. He believed it took discipline to advance the mind, and combat was the purest form of that discipline."

Finn allowed himself a half-smile, "I can understand that."

"I figured you would," and before he could process it, her staff sprouted amber fire and was held in a ready position. It had been a small movement, but an almost indistinguishable one. Finn had seen her in combat before and understood how fast she could be, but had never really encountered it first hand.

Finn's immediate counter had been to drop into his own stance and ignite the saber, the weapon held in both hands at the hip ready to lunge forward with the sapphire blade. Of course, Rey didn't take the bait and smiled at him. She switched stances, the staff now held above her head at shoulder level. Finn returned the gesture by bringing his own weapon up to shoulder height, his hand resting against his cheek.

"Hence why I felt we should start with something you're already familiar with. Though I must admit I find it strange you know your way around a longsword. Phasma?"

"Partly, but my own primary instructor had been a Mandalorian named Svarr."

She recognized the name. "Svarr? So the First Order did take in the Deathwatch Remnants."

Finn nodded. "He and Phasma taught us to use whatever came to hand. My preference had been with a mace and a shield."

Another stance switch occurred, before Rey lunged forward with a feint. Finn recognized the move and played into it. As he suspected, when he moved to riposte the thrust, he found himself swinging at air with the staff moving blindingly for his shoulder. It took all his effort to swing the blade to his right to bat away the strike and then follow with a counter thrust.

Naturally, Rey was well away by the time he made that move, and Finn suspected that had been just a probe, a test.

"Impressive," Rey smiled again, this time genuinely, "I think you just answered my question."

A millisecond after the last syllable, she thrust her blade at him again, this time one-handed for the reach. Finn had been ready this time, though it had been close. He deflected the strike with an upward guard just before it made contact with his face and batted it to the side, moving with a counter thrust in one smooth movement.

With an unnatural speed, she sidestepped him by only the necessary inches and Finn could feel the very air move with her as his blade went right past her face. He attempted to rectify this by turning his thrust into a wide swing, finding her once again dropping the necessary inches as his saber parted a single strand of hair.

A heartbeat later, he felt a sudden burning sensation in his calves and was conscious of falling as his back quickly got the same treatment. The pain was intense, like he'd been prodded by a hot poker, but he understood the real thing was worse. Their weapons were on a training setting, after all.

As he hit the ground, he forced the movement into a roll. He tucked his weapon under his arm, and spun when he came up to his knees; his saber raised for a coming coup de grace. He had been seconds too late however, as he found the amber blade right underneath his chin.

Finn let out a breath, suddenly conscious of how fast his heart was beating or how ragged his breathing had become. That engagement had lasted only seconds, and yet he felt tired from it.

"Out of breath already?" she grinned down at him.

"Do you ever get tired of smiling, Jedi?"

She deactivated her saber and brought the weapon up to her shoulder, "If I can smile, it means I'm alive. My dad taught me that, and his master him."

"I suppose so," Finn panted as he got to his feet, "what was your question?"

"Oh, why you know your way with a longsword, even though you honestly shouldn't."

"I told you-"

"That's not the full truth though. You may not believe me, but you were actually moving pretty fast."

That caught Finn flat footed, "I was? Surely nothing compared to you."

"Well, I'm a Jedi with several years on my belt, so that doesn't count. But yeah, your reflexes are impressive. The fact you were able to contend with me at all, and cut this off?" she held up the single strand of hair Finn had managed to part, "As I said, impressive."

"Well, we were taught to face any and all opponents," Finn explained, "perhaps even the Jedi included."

"Just the Jedi?" she asked, her face adding more to the question.

"I suppose that would extend to **other** Force Users. Maybe even our own."

"Has it ever happened before?" Rey asked curiously.

"I… don't know. But if I had to guess considering how often our interests clash, it wouldn't surprise me."

"Interesting. You both answer to the same person, but not only do you not command one another, you're also kept in competition."

"I wouldn't say that. We have interests, yes, but they both align in the end."

"Do they?"

Finn took a moment to process his answer, studying her face as he did. She was surprisingly hard to read. "You're speaking of Armitage, aren't you?"

She dropped into a stance and Finn followed suit. "Partly. Would you say your relationship with the Knights extends to your intelligence community?"

"I would say so, yes."

Finn took the initiative this time, engaging in a flurry of slashes and thrusts all moving into one another. To his surprise, Rey stood her ground and used her weapon like a quarterstaff, his own saber strikes bouncing off the shaft as she danced around his defense. She swung the back-end of her staff and scored him in the ribs.

The pain was marginal, and Finn replied with a stab that turned into an uppercut. The blade whipped past Rey's chin as she swung her staff first to trap Finn's weapon arm, put the blade to the floor, and then using the staff as a balancing point to launch a flying knee into Finn's shoulder.

Finn used the momentum to drop into a roll before coming up and swinging at her legs. It was honestly starting to become irritating to see his blade just miss their intended target. He knew Rey wasn't mocking him, but it still felt like it. A part of him wanted to close the distance, but he knew that would just be an exercise in futility.

So, he instead withdrew to a ready position and waited.

"Good, very good. I see I don't have to teach you anything when it comes to patience."

"Maybe you do. Mine is starting to wear thin. Why the questions?"

"A simple observation, really. You mentioned that Armitage and his father are not on good terms?"

"From what I've heard, no. But that honestly doesn't surprise me. Much of Section 5, especially Internal Affairs, were drawn from the old ISB. Needless to say, they brought their old rivalries with them."

"So, what holds them together in the end? It can't just be one man. After All, you emphasized that the First Order learned from the mistakes of the Empire."

"I'm not sure we did," Finn replied solemnly, "the Old Empire followed a Sith into the grave, just as their predecessors did with the Sith Empire. If what you say is true and the High Marshal is just another Sith, then all we did was repeat history."

"Maybe not entirely," Rey countered, "as you said, the Knights of Ren don't rule anyone."

"No, but they are still an extension of Demask's will. I honestly doubt if the First Order would survive as it does now if he were to die. He is the symbol of which all follow."

"You keep mentioning symbols," she pointed her staff at his lightsaber, "you even called that a symbol. Why is the concept so important to you?"

"Do you not have your own symbols to follow? To believe in?"

"I suppose I do, but I don't think I put as much stock into it as you do."

"Rey, the thing you must understand about the First Order is that purpose means everything to us. A symbol has purpose to it; inspires others to follow that purpose. For without it, without that driving force, we wander into dark places. The Empire lost purpose beyond its own survival, and look what happened."

"Maybe the Emperor was a symbol of authoritarianism. As you said, people followed him to the grave."

"And yet others followed Luke Skywalker, not just the Jedi or the Rangers. Tell me, was Luke not the face of the New Republic to many?"

"Heh, I suppose you could say that. I've even met a few who view the guy as a god."

"So you have two examples then. Regardless, that is the power of symbolism. It can hold even the most untenable of things together. It can inspire masses to a common cause. That is because symbols are everlasting."

Suddenly he lunged forward in a low moving sweeping arc, hoping to catch the Jedi off guard. Instead, he found her already moving, avoiding each strike with a deadly precision before she swung the butt of her staff to club him in the back of the head.

This, to Rey's visible surprise, was met by Finn's raised elbow. Though the blow sent an avalanche of pain into his shoulder, it provided Finn the opportunity to wrap his arms around her staff, trap it and then pull her in. He deactivated his saber to give him better maneuverability, positioning it so that he could reactivate the weapon into Rey's shoulder.

Unsurprising to him, this didn't work. It had become evident that Rey was as strong if not stronger than him, and his grip was not enough to stop her from batting away his weapon hand and land a knee into his stomach. The wind was knocked out of him, but Finn refused to go down this time.

With a panther's roar, he dropped low and caught Rey in a tackle. He knew if he could take her to the ground, he could use his superior mass and weight to his advantage. However, even in the seconds it took to implement this, he could already feel her slip her knees between them. When they landed, all she had to do was roll and he was flying across the yard until he finally skidded to a halt.

"Damnit," Finn cursed as he pushed himself to his feet. To his growing annoyance, Rey was already standing and for the most part unscathed. A growing rage bubbled deep within him that he felt the urge to lash out with, but with he coldly reprimand himself.

" _Anger is weakness when uncontrolled,"_ Phasma's words rang in his ears, " _it is fire, and it will destroy you as easily as it will your enemy. Be it's master, not the other way around."_

"She sounds like my dad," Rey said quietly, drawing his eyes to her.

"I really need to stop thinking aloud," he grumbled as he got back to his feet, "and I thought Jedi weren't supposed to use anger."

"My dad certainly didn't think so, or great many of my teachers. Anger, fear? Those are emotions common to everyone. The mistake the Jedi of Old made was to try and banish them. Yes, uncontrolled they are like fire. But without it, there is nothing to keep back the darkness. It is a part of us, and it's something we must live in harmony with."

"I thought it was disrespectful to speak ill of the dead," Finn recited with a half smile.

"Not when offering criticism," she chuckled back, "which you do with the Empire, and even the First Order. And yet you hold onto their values."

"It is what I am, just as you are a Jedi. Without these values, as you call them, we are nothing. We are without purpose, for that is what they give us."

"Then tell me this, what is the purpose of the First Order? What is it that they want more than anything else?"

"To see the Empire reborn," Finn replied with a measure of uncertainty, "or so they like to say."

"Finn," she put aside her saber, walking up to him to look him in the eyes, "what the First Order wants is revenge, and I've seen what that does to people… people I cared about. If what you say about symbols and purpose and all that is true, then what the First Order inspires is wrong."

"To your perception, perhaps."

"No, not just mine. Yours too. You know it, and I think you have for a long time now. That is why the First Order is going to fail: they are fundamentally flawed."

"And the Jedi? You have fallen many times before as well."

"Only to rise again better, stronger. Our purpose is to help people, to inspire them to be better. I suppose that's why our symbol, and the symbol of the Rebellion and the New Republic, was a phoenix. We always rise again."

"Even if the people don't wish to be inspired or helped?"

There was hurt in her eyes, but she accepted it regardless. "Even then. We cannot abandon our mission just because it hurts someone's feelings."

Finn nodded in understanding at that, "I think we have more in common then we realize. Perhaps Stormtroopers and Jedi aren't so different."

"Maybe not. Maybe all they need is the right person, the right symbol, to give them that purpose. But it must be the right one, Finn. So let me ask you this: why do you want to become a Jedi?"

"Because I was given a gift, like you. A gift I can use to save my brothers and sisters. To show them that we can find a different way, a better way. And I cannot do that as just a man, as just FN-2187 or even as Finn."

"Why?"

"As a man I can be corrupted, I can be killed. So I must become more than that. As I said, symbols are everlasting, and I can safely say that Luke Skywalker had to embrace his legend to become the man so many revere and follow."

She chuckled at the analogy. "He did, Force knows that he hated it."

That surprised Finn, and she continued with a sigh, "He never wanted to be worshiped like he is by some. All he did, his words not mine, was just do his job the best he could. But alas, he's the son of the Hero with no Fear, the man to defeat the Emperor and take revenge for his father."

"...why do I have the feeling you're saying that's not what happened on the Death Star?"

"You'd be surprised about how often truth and legend get mixed, Finn, or how fiction is more acceptable than truth."

That's when they both felt it. For Finn, it was like he was the battlefield again and his backhairs were standing. Danger was coming. He turned to look at Rey, and saw the same look on hers.

"They've found us."

* * *

Commodore Wedge Antilles watched from the tactical display of NRS _Kenobi's_ bridge the dog fighting engagements of his fleets small, but no less impressive compliment of starfighters. Over the last several hours, they'd been engaged in a series of mock battles with their carried fleet of training drones mocked up in the appearance of enemy TIE-Strikers.

These were of Wedge's own design, though they had not been officially sanctioned by the bigwigs in Supply. Barely 4 feet in diameter, the drones were nothing more metallic spheres with engines strapped on. However, packed into their frame were powerful holographic projectors that allowed them to take the appearance of any starfighter that could be loaded into their database.

Additionally, their small size and shape made them incredibly fast and maneuverable, allowing them to replicate the flight patterns of their projected craft. The downside is that such information processing made the craft prone to breakdowns in their processing matrices. However, when they were working, it showed Wedge a very grim realization he'd come to a long time ago: the New Republic was not ready.

As if to prove his point, two squadrons of X-Wings covering the approach of K-Wing bombers engaged and were quickly getting cut to pieces by a swarm of the fighters. Granted the swarm had them outnumbered 3-to-1 and X-Wings did take a serviceable number of them down, they along with the K-Wings were still knocked out to a man.

He grumbled at the sight. Too many years were spent on perfecting ways to fight the previous wars and the Empire's TIE-fighters. This was best showcased by the New Republic pilots inability to properly counter the extreme maneuverability of the droid fighters. They were far too used to facing down enemies who couldn't pull such lethal maneuvers, and were having a far better time engaging the drones propped up as TIE-Defender Mk. I's.

Ironically, the starfighters better suited to dealing with these swarms were the K-Wings, who had traded out several of their blaster cannons for chainguns. The only side effect was that the simulated space debris from the destroyed craft slowly wore down their shields and even knocked some of them out.

In fact, the only squadron doing admirably in every engagement was Black Squadron, and that was no surprise. Not only had Poe Dameron already faced the latest in the enemies hardware and survived, but he was now joining the ranks of fighter pilots-turned Jedi.

"Took you long enough to figure that out, boy," Antilles chuckled softly to himself. He turned to his deck officer, "What's the kill-ratio?"

"On average, sir? About 6-to-1, roughly. Though that's dropping to the low 3's."

"We need to raise that. In the Clone Wars, pilots needed a 12-to-1 and they were dealing with Seppies fighters."

Wedge still had bad memories of facing off against the old Separatist Tri-Fighters. The only reason why more hadn't been made was because they'd almost bankrupted the CIS back in the day.

"Just like Thrawn's Defenders." The irony of that made him chuckle. "Alright, pull the plug and bring 'em back in. We'll debrief and-"

"Sir," his comm's officer interrupted, "Commander Dameron's on the line. He says it's urgent. He…" he paused, as if he didn't believe what he was hearing, "he's asking us to check our long range scanners. He says he's feeling something coming."

"Probably just jumpy after everything he's been through," his XO dismissed, but Wedge shook his head.

"Comm, perform a deep range scan of the hyperspace lane."

"Sir, none of our sensors have been tripped-"

"Do it, ensign."

"Commodore?" his XO asked.

"Luke got feelings like that all the time, and they were usually right," he answered grimly, "put us on amber alert. I don't want another Hoth on our hands."

"Sir!" his comm officer shouted, his face in a panic, "I've just picked up multiple signals travelling on our lane! They're too far out to make out, but the signals are big!"

"Battle stations!" Wedge bellowed as he keyed the fleet wide frequency, "This is Commodore Antilles to all ships. We have incoming bogies approaching our position. Set condition red, I repeat, set condition red! Rendezvous at," he pulled up the tactical display, "Grek-Forn-90, and assuming pattern delta!"

Already signals and warning lights were blaring all around as the fleet began to move into action. Squadrons of fighters likewise were assuming screening patterns around their motherships with the anti-fighter corvettes taking up middle positions next to the larger frigates.

Wedge started bellowing our orders. "Comm, get me the Temple. Helmsman, get the _Kenobi_ in front. We're the biggest gun we've got and I want them focusing on us. Ensign, what's the ETA on the bogies?"

"4 minutes and change, sir. Our sensors should pick them out in another minute."

"Commodore, the Temple is online!"

"Put them through."

Just then, the holographic images of Han and Shrike appeared. " _What are we looking at, Wedge?"_ Han asked.

"Bogies coming in. Shrike, anybody coming in I should know about?"

" _If there were, I wouldn't keep you in suspense. Nah, this is someone lookin' to make the next hour interesting. Did Dameron warn you?"_

"Yes, he did. Comm status?"

"Any sec-oh carabast. Sir, it's big! I'm counting at least 20 to 30 vessels!"

"What the hell? No way the Wannabes would send a fleet that big unless-"

" _Sydow,"_ Han finished for him, " _must've taken him days to get this together."_

" _Wyatt, get me the specs on 'em!"_ Shrike called from behind the screen before someone handed him a dataslate, " _Thanks. Alright, the intel we've got suggests we're up against Clone Wars era ships, mainly Seppies. Explains why they brought so many."_

Wedge nodded with a grim confidence. "We can take 'em, but they're not going to make it easy."

" _Just draw them close, Wedge,"_ Shrike replied, " _we can hit the schmucks with the Temple defenses along with the fleet."_

" _This is too easy, though,"_ Han grumbled, " _Sydow's not stupid. He wouldn't be coming unless he has a plan… or a big hammer."_

"Sir, we're getting more details! One of the ships is massive. At least a low-tier Battlecruiser Class."

" _Battlecruiser?"_ Shrike shook his head, " _Can't be Seppies, they only made two."_

" _What about a Praetor?"_

"Unlikely, Han. Navy Intel kept a close track on the one's still around. Besides, the Kuatians wouldn't be happy if some pirates had one. Ensign, ETA?"

"One minute thirty, sir! We're looking at 25 ships! I can't get read on the specifics, I'm getting some kind of interference!"

"Commodore, if it is a Seppie Battlecruiser, we should prepare all stations for a super ion cannon discharge," the XO warned.

"Agreed, start deploying compensator generator fields between us-"

"Sir, the fleet is sending us a transmission!"

Wedge's eyes went wide, "Scramble the frequency! Do not-!"

It was already too late. Suddenly, there was a loud screech in audio systems like white noise trying to punch through before it was replaced by loud, boisterous singing and heavy instruments twanging in the background:

 _Look out, here we come!  
Looking for a fight!  
Gonna smash you till you're chum!  
Putting on such a fright!  
Better run away before we rump!_

 _Oh, shiver my timbers, shiver my soul!  
Yo ho he ho!  
There are men, whose hearts are as black as coal!  
Yo ho he ho!_

 _Here we go, we're the best!  
Smash you up, nice and good!  
Hurt you bad, we don't jest!  
Run away, if you would!  
Chop you up with the rest!_

 _Oh, shiver my timbers, shiver my sides!  
Yo ho he ho!  
There are men whose hearts are as cold as ice!  
Yo ho he ho!_

 _Shut your trap, get to fighting!  
No way out for you!  
Cause you so good at dying!  
Chop you up till you're chew!  
We were made for winning!_

 _Shiver my timbers, shiver my sales!  
Deadmen tell no tales!_

By the last note, twenty-five enemy ships suddenly cut across the void and emerged kilometers ahead. As predicted, it was a composition of Munificent, Providence and Recusant classes, with a number of Dreadnought-Heavy Cruisers supporting on the flanks.

"Comm, where's the big one?"

"Any sec-"

His words were cut short by an image that seized the attention of the battlefield; all blood coated three miles of it.

" _Son of a mynock,"_ Shrike cursed, " _so they did make a third one."_

"Ensign? What are the specs on it?" Wedge bellowed.

"I'm detecting a massive number of power fluctuations coming from an unusual number of ion power plants."

"Define unusual, Ensign."

"Sir, according to the specs on the _Malevolence I_ and _II_ , those plants are not supposed to be there."

" _Sydow must've added them,"_ Han replied, " _Wedge, can those generator fields you have stand up to that?"_

No sooner than that was asked, the enemy fleet took up battle positions to flank the behemoth warship. The _Malevolence-III_ in turn presented its starboard side, bringing its massive ion cannon to bear. Massive coils of bluish energy coursed through its focusing lens. One by one, the emitters blasted energy into a single line, every second getting larger and larger.

"Ensign?" Wedge asked

"I don't know, sir. That cannon's charge is far more powerful than it should be. It's already past 100% and increasing. Time to fire estimated at thirty seconds!"

Wedge pulled up his tactical display. At the current trajectory, the ion shot was aimed at where the Temple was located, and his fleet and the generator field was between them.

"Sir?" his XO asked, "What are your orders?"

"Hold position. Let the field do its job."

" _Wedge, pull your fleet out of the way-"_

"With all due respect, Han, shut up and let me do my job."

" _Wedge, I'm with the smuggler on this one. Your countermeasures weren't designed for this monster. If your fleet goes, then they can just glass us from orbit."_

After several more seconds, the _Malevolence's_ ion cannon reached its maximum charge, and with a thundering vibration that could be felt miles away, it fired.

"XO, order the fleet to move to Besh-Gamma-13. Get us out of the way, micro Jump if you have to."

"Aye sir."

* * *

"Cap'n, Tiege's reportin' most of power plants on the Malevolence are overloadin'! He's shuttin' down systems 'fore they fry!"

"That's perfectly fine, Mister Marco," Sydow replied with a satisfied smile, "the hammer did it's job. Now let's move in."

Ahead, the New Republic squadron began it's hasty retreat as the massive wave of ionic energy crashed into their deployed countermeasures. For a brief second, the generators attempted to absorb the energy, but they were quickly overloaded and exploded in dazzling microexplosions. The wave was still coming.

"Take up siege positions, and order Tiege to get the Malevolence outta here. It did its job. Gunner, time to impact?"

"Fifteen seconds, cap'n. Enemies still in the fire zone. Might not make it."

"Oh, they'll make it. Antilles' is no fool."

The tactical displays zoomed in on the path of destruction the wave was creating, coming closer and closer like a tsunami. Distance estimates popped up everywhere as the wave closed in on the squadrons former position. 50 kilometers read on the distance, and it was close enough that one of the _Virgilla_ -Class Corvettes trailing the rear of the retreat was hit by the after effects.

Arcing purple light struck the vessel's aft section, and soon it was floating in space, dead in the water.

"Bad luck, Antilles. Never were good at Sabacc, either."

Seconds later, the same was visited on the planet as the wave crashed into it. Although he couldn't see the effects from their distance in space, he knew it had been enough. Sydow keyed his headset, "Phasma, Kylo? Phase 1 complete. You may start your landin'. Oh, and love? Give 'em hell for me."

He then turned to his XO, "Bonnie, bring the fleet about. We got a hellova fight on our hands."

* * *

 **A note from the Authors:**

* * *

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Cale here. We want to thank Terminator57 and SWEULover2007 for their awesome reviews on the story. Other than that, nothing much.


	41. Chapter 34 - Deja Vu

**Chapter 39 - Déjà Vu**

* * *

 **High Orbit of Takodana**

 **LAAT Gunship _Mynok Bane_**

* * *

It had been years since Phasma had been witness to a space battle, let alone involved in one, and she always found it so fundamentally different to ground engagements. After all, there was no ground to speak of; no natural cover or foliage or terrain to take advantage of. Instead, it was a slugging fest in an open box where gunnery crews blasted away at each other from thousands of miles away, ships constantly moving above, below and to the flanks to gain better positioning and deflection angles.

To the untrained eye, it was utterly incomprehensible chaos. However, her experience in the cockpit gave her some understanding of what was happening. Sydow was forming an almost dome like perimeter around their landing zone, trying desperately to keep the New Republic's hundreds of fighters and bombers from breaking through to her and the rest of the boarding party.

Already, the dizzying clash of organic and droid fighters turned into a bloody brawl as the two sides lit up the dark vacuum like neon lights at a Life Day Festival. It was too soon to tell who was winning or who was taking more of a pommeling. The Sydow outnumbered Antilles 3-to-1, but Antilles had the far better ships and fighters.

'It doesn't matter as long as we get to the damn ground,' she thought to herself. She'd never liked the sensation of being in a dropship. It made her feel helpless. Then again, she didn't know any trooper who didn't feel the same way.

What made the situation worse though was the rather disturbing sense of deja vu, especially when the Company Commander, Paine, began his debriefing to the men:

" _This is a raid, boys, and we got an hour to do it. No stand up fightin', no heroics, and no plunderin'. We get in, get the intel and get the hell out 'fore company shows. That means once we land, we push for Temple. We don't stop for nothin', which means if you fall behind, you'll get left behind. Y'all understand?"_

There was a general murmur of agreement, and the commander continued:

" _We'll be gettin' some air support on the way in, and Carlo's company be right behind us. However, we're gonna be on our own till then. Now, the Malevolence knocked out most of their high-end security, but these Rangers boys are gonna be dangerous, and we are kickin' in their front door. So don't do anything stupid. Other than that, guns up and let's kick some tail."_

"Great speech," SC-023 chuckled dryly through their private comms, "wonder what he does for an en-core?"

"Long as it doesn't involve singing, Twenty-Three, I'll be happy," SC-111 replied, "ah hell!"

As if on cue, the Pirates did exactly that. It was a laborious shanty, more akin to drunkards wandering from the local pub, but Phasma admitted it had charm. It had been a long time since she had heard 'Corellian Ladies,' and she couldn't help but hum with the tune.

"Mum, are you okay?" Twenty-Three asked.

"I think she's gone native!" Ones said with mock horror. Phasma tilted her head at them, the motion showing that she was grinning at them.

"I like the song. It reminds me of better days," she replied simply before she entered the open comm, "Pilot, ETA?"

"Hittin' atmo now, ma'am," as he said this, the gunships side views turned black to prevent the crews inside from being blinded by the intense heat of entry. "LZ in 3 mikes."

"10-4," she nodded, and switched back to the private channel, facing the pirate garbed Commandos, each one wearing dulled red blast armor and helmets. "Children, are you ready?"

"You really need to ask, mum?" Twenty-Three chuckled over the comm, "Plan's simple enough. Draw out the enemy, and Eighty and L go in the back with Lord Kylo and find that secret entrance he was talking about. We've had worse."

"No," she smiled thinly, "you haven't. I lost a good number of your brothers and sisters to a small outpost, and that was entirely a First Order operation. Now we're attacking the stronghold of the Antarian Rangers, power and no. I don't like repeating mistakes"

"Difference is, mum?" Ones said conspiratorially, her hand to the side of her mouth, "We have a ton of meat shields."

"Who mabbe likely to put bolts in us too, so stow that talk," Twenty-Three repimanded harshly, but Ones shrugged her shoulders.

"Just stating a fact is all. But I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Well, good for you, that's a first. Anyway, at least this ain't a creep-op. Only cinch is that we got one hour to do it, and a lot of bodies between us and the objective."

"That's not the only cinch," Ones replied, "the Brownrobe. I know Lord Kylo isn't with us because he doesn't want to be detected by her and ruin his infil, but what happens if and when we run into her? I don't suppose the Pirates brought more of those Lizards?"

"No," Phasma replied, "a pitched battle like this would make them too difficult to use. They've got a few more… conventional options."

"So…" Twenty-Three mused, "I guess we'll just cross that bridge when we come to it. Hopefully with a lot of firepower."

"Wonderful," Ones grunted, "well, farewell and adieu to you Corellian Ladies."

A warm smile crossed Phasma's face as the commandos opened up their channel and started singing with the rest of riff raff. It was a pleasant distraction, and one that didn't last.

"ETA, one minute! Dropping to nap of the planet!" the pilot bellowed over the intercom, and the sidedoors of the dropship opened to reveal the vast forest canopy below and a dozen dropships flying in formation. Ahead, she spotted the castle-like temple poking over the treetops, and the squadron of droid fighters bombing it.

"Ha, mabbe the loose-wires will do all the work for us!" a pirate chortled.

"What? Rob me and ol' Aayla a good fight? Fat chance, Scoutie."

"Ah shut it, Hevy. Don't ruin me spirits."

Despite the humor, Phasma could already feel the tension brewing with the other occupants as they gripped their weapons tightly and checked each others equipment. She nodded at the Commandos, and they quickly started the same.

Every second that ticked by, Phasma expected rockets and anti-aircraft fire to start hurtling at them from the treetops. Nothing happened yet though, and a grizzled looking Petty Officer seemed to read her mind, "Keep your triggers ready, boys! These gits got somethin' store for us!"

She couldn't agree more. She clutched her custom made F-11 tighter, the sound of the gunships now moving directly over the treetops synonymous to the ticking of a clock.

" _Thirty seconds! Approaching LZ!"_ the pilot shouted over the comm.

"Get your gear and blasters stowed, boys. Here we go!"

And with that, the gunships began a vertical ascension to barely a foot above the ground; the Pirates making the jump en-mass, blasters blazing. The roar of so many going off was deafening, and Phasma's comm-set was struggling to mute out the worst of it.

All around them, the forest burned and exploded from the unrelenting firepower until, with no real order given, it stopped. The only dead were the hundreds of trees they'd cut down with their overwhelming firepower, and the wild life seemed to be mocking them about it.

"Where the hell are they?" Ones asked, "Intel said there'd be hundreds here."

"Guess we'll find out soon enough," Twenty-Three replied.

Ahead, the company commander whistled and waved his hand around, signalling the platoon leaders to start moving out waving Phasma over. Carefully, she and the commandos began to pick their way over, suddenly conscious of the stinging bugs starting to fly around them and the sucking mud pulling them down.

'This damn place reminds me of Tyyrr,' she thought to herself, 'even if it is prettier.'

"Cap'n," Commander Paine said, "you'll be going in with my platoon. Stay close to us and try not to get your head shot off."

"Understood, Commander. May I suggest something?"

He nodded. Though Phasma was technically his superior in rank, this was his op and she would respect that. "The Rangers we encountered on Jakku employed unconventional tactics when faced with a superior force. I suspect they may try the same here."

"Figured as much. Least we won't need the sappers for a bigger LZ," he then grabbed the comm on his lapel, "all Platoons, keep a rock steady pace. Watch for spiders in the woods. They got webs. I want tincans scoutin' ahead 'fore we make moves, over."

" _Copy, boss. We're on it."_

Behind them, Phasma heard the sounds of hydraulics and turned her head to see a squadron of retrofitted AT-RT scout walkers being deployed, rising to their full man-height as they began to sprint into the forest ahead. She smiled slightly at the sight, noting the walkers had been reinforced with crude but effective enclosed canopies, along with secondary incendiary projectors and rockets.

They were not quite as advanced as the First Orders own Armored Recon Walkers, but they were clearly made along the same lines. The Pirates really had done their homework.

" _Corsair-One to Fox Flight, what's the sitch in the air, over?"_

" _Calm. The droids are finishin' their run; need to pull back to rearm and refuel. Report no enemy activity. No IR, motion, nothin'. It's like there's no one there."_

The naval commander looked over at Phasma wearily as he replied, "Right. Finish unloading and get Corsair-Two down here ASAP."

" _10-4. Be back in fifteen if traffic holds. Good hunting, over."_

"Roger, out," he shook his head in disgust, "well, this is just gettin' grand. Alright, let's move."

Suddenly, a cold familiar feeling took her, as though something unseen had just shadowed her. She turned her head to the forest, looking into the overgrowth for something there, but there wasn't. There couldn't be, and yet somehow she felt there was.

"Mum?' Twenty-Three asked, "You okay?"

She spared a final look at the treeline, and shook her head. "I'm fine. Let's get going."

* * *

"Why couldn't you have stayed away?" Finn breathed in the gloom, his hand oddly not tracing down to the butt of his blaster as was traditional, but instead for the hilt of Lor San's lightsaber.

"Hey," he heard a soft voice next to him, "you okay, son?"

"I'm fine, Sergeant Major," he replied, eyeing the man and his squad of camouflaged troopers, "just… thinking about what's coming next."

"I understand."

Finn turned to face the senior noncom, the only illumination coming from his helmet light. "I suppose you do. What did it feel like? Fighting your own?"

A look of surprise filtered through the veteran's grizzled painted face, but that was quickly replaced by understanding. He signalled his men to keep moving and he pulled Finn aside, "Someone up there you know?"

Finn nodded, and Merrick sighed. "Hard. I know that's real easy to say, but that's all I can say. Prospect of you having to kill someone you know? That's damn hard. But there's something my wife said… well, she wasn't my wife yet, but yeah. 'Focus on what you have, not what you did. Focus on the here and now, not before.'"

"Did it work?"

"I'm alive, and so was my wife and son. So, I guess it did. Hey," he put his hand on his shoulder, "you did something I'll never repay, but I'll try. You ain't alone in this."

' _I think I'll always be alone,'_ Finn thought but didn't say. He pointed up to the roof, "Thank you. I'm sure he'll be okay, too."

"Oh, I ain't worried about Poe. He's the best Forcedamned pilot there is. Nah, I'm worried about the next ten minutes. Haven't been this damn tense since Endor."

"Well," Finn grinned eyeing the two-Ewok sniper team passing by their legs, "we do still have that **that** indigenous advantage."

Merrick chuckled, patting him on the back, "I like you, kid. You got a good head on those shoulders. I'll do my best to keep it that way."

"Again, thank you."

 _Finn,_ he suddenly heard Rey in his head, _I'm in position. Let everybody know._

 _I think I'm starting to understand Poe's problem to you mind peeking,_ he chuckled softly, _you be careful._

 _You too. May the Force be with you, Apprentice._

 _And you… Master._

* * *

The forest was mocking them. Whether it be the suspicious cooing of birds drawing their tension-wound sights, or the constantly shifting shadows in the foreground followed by rustling, Phasma had the creeping suspicion that the enemy was within reach, but not within sight. Even the company of a hundred pirates, their heavy weapons and even the two commandos did not alleviate this feeling. In fact, it made it worse.

Alone, one could blend in with the forest and make it their own. Here, spread across yards of ground in search patterns, they were the invaders and that made them a big target. Ahead, Phasma noticed the pirates splitting into fireteams, each one equipped with some kind of sensor device.

Carefully, she made her way over to Paine, popping over his shoulder. "Sir, what are they carrying over there?"

"Heart sensors," he replied, "all the boys got scramblers on 'em, so it won't pick us up. It's also calibrated to only pick up specific frequencies."

"As in not birds," she concluded rhetorically, her eyes watching the slow and methodical movements of the pirates rooting through the trees, underbrush and foliage… and yet finding nothing.

"Commander, with your permission I would like to take my commandos out ahead to do some reconnaissance."

"Ma'am, I doubt that's gonna do any more good than the tincans walking around," he gestured to his comm officer, where the feeds of their scout walkers ahead were being transmitted. A cursory glance told her that they were wading through the heavy ruins surrounding the castle-like structure a half-mile away.

"And as you can see, they've got nothin' and they're over 400 yards ahead of us. At this rate, they'll hit the bloody temple before we do."

As Phasma was about to argue her case, another Pirate spoke up as his heart monitor started to beep, "Sir, we got movement."

"Where?" Paine asked as everyone got ready, "How many?".

"One. 50 yards out at our 11 and closing, but damn it's fast."

The company commander gave Phasma a look before pulling in his holo-comm operator, "Winsen, tell all the patrols to hold their position and point their blasters ahead. We're gonna have company."

"Sir, 30 yards and closing."

Phasma felt the commandos close on her flanks, taking up natural cover as Phasma took a knee behind a log. "Twenty yards covered in less than ten seconds. That is fast."

"We can run something like that but not in ten seconds," Twenty-Three grunted, "Ones, check the ground."

The other commando placed her hand on the ground, and shook her head. "I'm not feeling any vibrations. It's not a walker or anything like that."

"Couldn't be," Paine replied, "Malevolence knocked everything out."

"Boss? Forward positions," the operator held his hand to his receiver to check what he was hearing and nodded worriedly, "the forward positions say it's right on top of them."

"What do you mean on top of them?"

"I mean it's literally moving past them and they can't see where it is."

The beeping from the heart monitor suddenly grew so frequent that they were bleeding into each other, "Boss, it's twenty feet out! It's right in front of us!"

"In front of us?" a pointman shouted, "I can't see anything! You must be readin' it wrong!"

"I'm tellin' you, mate! It's right on top of us!"

"On top of us?" Phasma watched as Paine slowly drew his head upward, a look of horror dawning on his face, "It's in the trees."

A dozen blasters soon found themselves pointed in that direction as someone shouted, "In the trees!? And it has a heartbeat!? That can only mean-"

"Yes, it's the Jedi," a woman's voice suddenly rang out from above, echoing like a million more were there, "What brings you to our lovely home, mates?"

Phasma had to resist the urge to reveal herself and ask the obvious question. After all, if she was here, so was he.

"Come on out, Jedi," the commander called to the treetops, "awfully rude for you to be talkin' without us seein' you."

"Really?" the voice asked coyly, "First you barge into my home, and now you're ordering me around? I'd say that's ruder."

"Look, lass, you know what we're here for. Just hand over the prize and no one needs to get hurt. We'll even leave right now. No harm, no fuss."

"Oh sure. Just the last time we tangoed, there was apparently a 50k bounty on my head. You're really just going to let that drop?"

"Not really, just needed to figure out where you are," he then jutted a finger at a sycamore directly in front of them, "SHOOT! SHOOT!"

In an instant, the tree was brought down and burned in a blaze of fire. Quickly, the men search the remains but found nothing there.

"What the hell? Where'd she go?"

The voice rang out again. "I'm going to give you one chance, space rats. Turn around and leave. This is your last warning."

They then heard rustling, drawing closer and closer as it was running circles around them.

"Oh great. Okay, everybody circle up! Guns up, guns front, and do not get separated! Winsen, get Raptors 3 and 4 back here, now!"

Something moved above them and a squad opened fire, hitting only air and leaves. "Come on out an' fight, you wench!"

"Okay. You asked for it."

It was then they heard the sound of a lightsaber igniting. Phasma had never encountered a Jedi before, but she knew they bled as easy as anything else. After all, Clones had killed them before. But right now, that was somehow hard to believe.

Another rustle of movement, this time followed by a loud, dull groan. The tree to their side started to move.

"LOOK OUT!" she shouted as the tree next to them came crashing down right on top of them, the thunder of it crashing echoing through the valley. As she recovered, she heard a scream ahead and she drew her weapon far too late as a blur of yellow slashed through the pirate in front of her.

"SHOOT! SHOOT!" but their shots were too slow, always a second behind. Then they saw her there, running up a tree; the movement finally slowing her down enough for them to see her clearly in her gray and tan form.

"SHOOT HER DOWN! SHOOT HER DOWN!"

Grenades, rockets and blaster bolts followed her all through the trees as she disappeared into the foliage. They didn't bother waiting for an order this time, they just kept shooting.

"All units!" Paine shouted into his headset, "I need all units to converge on this location!"

"Commander!" Phasma grabbed him by his arm, "Tell your men to hold their positions! She's baiting you!"

"Oh bloody hell, yer right. All units, all units, disregard previous orders! Hold positions and prepare for a counter-attack!"

"Boss, she's dropping branches on us! Look out!"

They all looked up to see a shower of brown and green each a foot thick and yards longs falling like hail shots. Men screamed as they crashed into them, their squad leaders shouting for them to take cover.

"Cassus! Get the dioxis grenades! We're flushing her out!"

"No need, I'm coming to you!"

There was a blur of brown, and then a sudden boom as the ground exploded in a shower of dirt, wood and leaves. Phasma had already been moving then, but the impact hit her hard in chest. She was sent rolling until her back hit a tree, the pain nearly sending her into unconsciousness.

Drously, she raised her head, and all she could see was a thick cloud of soot and soil with barely silhouettes visible. She hadn't the foggiest who was who. Now more than ever, she desperately wished she had her armor and its built in visor settings.

"Where the hell is she!?" someone in the cloud shouted.

"Here," and screams followed, the sudden movement of the terrible amber blade somehow too fast to track before it disappeared into the void. Behind her, she saw Hevy and his gunnery crew, and off to the side the Storm Commandos. With gritted teeth, she forced herself to her feet, and shouldered her weapon.

 _Circle around,_ she signalled to everyone else. Another scream echoed, this time followed by a pirate blasting away with the shots almost taking Phasma's head off. A moment later, the firing stopped, and this time she could smell the sickening smell of plasma searing flesh.

Movement caught her eye, and she looked up to see her Troopers signalling ready. Phasma checked around her to make sure no one got flagged, and nodded. They opened fire.

"Everybody down!"

In seconds, the crimson and sapphire bolts tore through the cloud, shredding the foliage and trees in between and a pair of silhouettes still standing. They kept shooting and shooting until finally the heat dissipated the smoke, seeing now everything above 2 feet burned to size.

"Oi! Anyone alive in there?" one of the pirates shouted. Slowly, a muddied hand came up, and someone started to rise.

"Stay down! Everybody stay down! We'll come to you!"

Slowly, they picked through the killzone and grabbed friendlies as they went, checking each of the muddy burned bodies for identification. Behind them, several squads were closing in, and Phasma hoped the rest were at the perimeter.

When they got the epicenter, they found what they'd hit, and Phasma swore. Then she saw the body move. "I need a corpsman here! The Commander's been hit!"

Then out of her peripherals, she saw something fast and brown moving. She spun, but found her weapon being knocked from her hand as a muddied indistinguishable form took her at a glance. To her sides, Phasma heard the movements of everybody else getting a bead, but in that literal second she felt a hand grab her by the scruff and spin her right into their direction.

Phasma immediate reaction was to plant her feet. Her second was to go for the vibro-sword at her hip. It was not regulation, rather something she'd kept as a trophy in her earlier days as a reminder of who she was, and she was damn good with it.

In one fluid motion, the Messer was free of its scabbard and singing for the Jedi's throat. Incomprehensibly, the blade missed the trachea by a literal inch, and Phasma lunged with a deft thrust only to find her ducking beneath the blade and rolling away to a patch ahead.

No sooner than her boots hit the mud the Jedi flew straight up in the air, blaster and rocket fire chasing her all the way up as she disappeared back in the treeline.

Phasma grabbed the comm officer, "Where the hell are those scout walkers?"

She got her answer when a pair of them came thundering into the scene, green trailing missiles firing into the canopy above.

"Dioxis! Get your masks on!"

A remote delay charge soon filled the tops of the trees with a thick green cloud, the lethal poison plummeting everything above in mortal choking spasms.

"Come on," Phasma growled behind the rubber seal, "fall, damn you."

Something plummeted through the treeline like a meteorite and crashed ahead.

"LET'S GET THE BROAD!" someone screamed, "I WANT HER FETHING HEAD ON A FETHING PLATTER!"

The roar of hydraulics and a hundred boots echoed through the air, faster than anyone could stop them even as their noncoms screamed after them. They weren't going to listen though, not when they were seeing red.

"Mum, what do we do?"

"Follow this through."

* * *

Everything hurt. Her skin felt like it was on fire, her eyes watering so much that she could barely see ahead of her, and her chest and stomach like they were submerged in filth. Everything felt squished and compressed, the nausea gripped her in its sickly embrace. Every part of her wanted to stop, but she dare not stop even as the bile came leaking out of every orifice.

The worst however was the terrible sensation that she couldn't breathe. Her brain was locked in the lie, the blood pumping making it thob in terrible pain even as Rey struggled to fight back the panic. It took everything she had just to breathe normally, and even then she was the verge of keeling over.

She was barely conscious of the blaster bolt that nearly took her head off, moving so lethargically to the side she smelled burning hair. She leapt over a cavice but fumbled on the landing and tumbled in a muddy heap.

 _Stupid,_ she cursed herself as she forced herself to rise, not daring to stop. _I got too caught up in it. Got careless. Stupid._

She turned her head slightly, making out of the vague silhouettes of enemy walkers through her tear-stricken eyes. They were closing now, shooting their rotary cannons and rockets as they went. Without the Force to guide her slowed movements, she would be dead.

She had to get to higher ground, get to the Temple. She saw the log ahead leading up, and she started running. She knew she could make the jump, get to the branch and start moving undercover. If she could just-

" _Oh no you don't! Get down from there!"_

There was a sudden explosion. The log tumbled and she was rolling into darkness. The pain was driving her headlong into unconsciousness, and it was only the jarring effect of hitting the ground that prevented that.

"C'mon Rey," she groaned painfully, tasting copper in her mouth, "get up. Run."

She could feel the enemy closing in, their hatred looking to overcome her. She took a breath, finding the soothing waters of the Force waiting for her. All she had to do was dive in, and let it guide her. She could make it. She had to make it.

" _Not so tough now, are you?"_ she heard the walker above her, its armored frame peering down into the ravine, " _Maybe I'll blast off yer legs next while I'm at it!"_

She saw the bolts coming before they were ignited and she dove to the side, her foot hitting a branch and using it as a springboard. With the grace of an acrobat, she somersaulted and came down with her lightsaber ignited. As she landed, she chopped at a stone wall next to her and struck it with a spinning kick.

The stone slab was sent flying, and she threw her hand forward to direct it towards its target. With a sickening _crunch,_ the walkers canopy was caved in; the mechanical beast stumbling over and out of sight.

"Right back at you."

She knew however it wasn't out and it wasn't alone. She could feel two figures coming, sprinting faster than the rest and she knew instinctively these couldn't be pirates. There was a cold methodicalness that set them apart, and they were over the threshold when she started moving again.

They fired accurate shots that she was barely fast enough to dodge; singing her clothes, skin and hair as she dove from cover to cover. A round grazed her shoulder, the sudden pain of it sending her tailspinning behind a wall that was soon crumbling behind her. The exhaustion and gas-induced pain was worse though, her gasps for breath coming out in ragged excuses.

This punctuated by a bolt blowing away the wall next to her head. "Give it up, Jedi! You've got nowhere to go!"

Ahead, she saw the Temple at only a hundred yards and she forced herself into a somersault, diving down crumbling alleyways as the fire chased her. She ran and ran for all she was worth, the blood pounding her head like a drum. She was at the courtyard now. She was close, she could make it.

Then she heard the crash of stone upon stone, and she looked up to see a pair of enemy walkers climbing the wall ahead of her, their weapons pointed at her. " _Going somewhere? Stop or I'll put you in the ground."_

She looked at them defeated, every little pain she'd ignored coming to rach up and pull her to her knees, and it took her everything she had not pass out. Behind her, she heard running footfalls amidst her ragged, desperate breathing, and she turned to look at them.

They were the same ones that had shot at her. They must've run at full pace for half a mile, and they didn't even look winded compared to the rest of pirates slowly closing in. She leveled a smile at them, especially when she recognized the make of the blasters pointed at her.

"Had to leave your armor behind, huh?" she panted, "Guess you're not above doing your own dirty work, hmm?"

"You're funny," a female's voice answered, "and you gave us a hellova run there, girl. Shame we're gonna have to hand you over to our superiors. I wouldn't mind a little while with you alone," her head motioned up the length of her body, "even with all the blood, mud and vomit."

Rey felt a stab of revulsion. Before she could reply, the other trooper reached over, and struck the other over the head. "Ow! What was that, Twenty-Three?"

"You flirt again on the job, Ones," he growled, jabbing a finger at her, "and I'll leave for you for worm food."

"Enough," and the two troopers parted to reveal their superior. Rey had no doubt who this was. The glare she bore was the kind of hatred that could only be personal.

"Phasma, right? You're certainly tall enough. Eighty Seven told me a lot about you."

"And you're the Jedi who turned him against us," she replied venomously, her hand tracing down to the butt of her sword.

"We didn't meet until after he deserted **you** , Phasma."

"Then why is he running around with one of **your** archaic weapons, Jedi?"

Rey rose to her feet, addressing the woman coldly. "He made his own choice. I just presented the facts to him."

"Your facts, you mean. There are two sides to everything, Jedi. Now, where is he, and the rest of your pitiful little band?"

Rey didn't answer, and the slightest twitch sent her to the floor as a stun bolt hit her. A sudden paralysis washed over her as she flopped a cold fish. She didn't know if it was Jedi constitution, or her own stubbornness, but she fought back the blackness and rose to her knees. Then she felt hands take hold of her, forcing her arms behind her back as an iron-grip took her by the jaw.

"You didn't answer my question, Jedi," Phasma spat as her fingers dug into her cheeks, "Where are they? Hiding somewhere?"

Rey managed a smile at her, "Something like that."

Phasma's grip tightened, the iron fingers now pressing into the tendons around her jaw painfully. "Whatever's about to happen, you'll be the first to drop."

There was a sudden clink followed by more, and the air turned to smoke, "I'll take those odds."

Suddenly, the unmistakable whine of a rocket's ignition echoed through the air, an explosion followed, and Rey fell to the floor. Unable to move, she became acutely aware of the clatter of panicked movement, the reports of blasters shooting, and the screams of dying men.

She tilted her head up to see Phasma and another officer desperately tried to salvage the situation as bodies began falling all around them. A bolt struck her in the chest, and she fell to one knee, her hand clutching the smoking armor. She gritted her teeth, returning fire as she gestured at one of her troopers, "Ones, grab the Jedi and-"

A bestial, animalistic roar cut through the din of violence the way only a Wookie could. Something opened behind her, and the pirate standing over her was sent flying into the smoke. More came, their weapons firing only to be met with the distinctive reports of a bowcaster and a heavy blaster pistol.

All around her, bodies dropped or were thrown into the distance as a gentle hand took her by the shoulder. "Don't worry, kiddo, I got you. Chewie, keep me covered!"

As she was dragged through the midst of the shooting, she had enough presence of mind to reach out and grab her weapon. That brought the attention of the troopers, but before they could stop them, they were gone.

* * *

As Kylo Ren boarded his transport followed by the Storm Commandos SC-080 and 011, and a squads complement of aged BX Commando Droids, the airways were clogged with the grim news on the ground.

" _Bloody Hell! They're comin' out the ground! Raider 2-5, watch your six!"_

" _Raider 3-1, we are pinned down here by carkin' snipers! Oh you gotta be kiddin' me! They're frickin' teddybears!"_

" _We need support here damnit! I ain't dyin' to bloody Ewoks! Where the hell is our frickin' airsupport!?"_

" _2-4, we've got eyes on a spider hole! They got tunnels all over the place! We need a flameprojector crew here now! I-"_

There was sudden report on the other end, and line went silent for a moment.

" _Chief is down! Chief is down! The bloody teddybears shot him gah!"_

" _2-4, this 2-1! Pull back! Pull back! You are gettin' cut to-"_

A sudden explosion was followed by the audible screech of the line going dead.

" _2-3, I got eyes on enemy reinforcements comin' from the south. I need support down here 'fore they cut us off from the landing zone!"_

" _Negative, 2-3. The bloody snipers got us pinned here. We'll lose more of our boys just tryna get to you."_

" _2-5 here, we're about to be overrun! We need support!"_

" _Corsair-1, this is Rylothian Heart. We have sustained heavy damage, and we're repositioning to provide direct support. ETA five minutes. Provide coordinates for fire missions, over."_

" _Negative, I got too many lads spread all over the place, and the enemy's in our faces. You'll get us along with them. Provide direct telemetry to our-gah!"_

The scream was followed by loud cursing and someone shouting " _They got the LT! They got the LT argh!"_

Then a familiar voice came on the line, " _All units, this is Captain Phasma. I am taking command of this operation. All platoons, begin a fighting retreat to… Sector Delta 5-7. There is a large structured ruin where we can make a stand."_

" _We do that and we'll be cut off from the landing zone!"_

" _Lieutenant, we cannot hold our current positions and the landing zone at the same time. We need to pull back to a single defensible position where we can call in direct support_. _Otherwise, they're just going to keep picking us off one by one."_

" _Aye, she's right. We stay here, we die. I'm pulling more forces back now, but I've still got a lot of lads caught in the wire."_

" _They'll have to hold out on their own until reinforcements arrive,"_ Phasma replied, " _all units rally on my position, out."_

"M'lord?" the trooper called Eighty asked, a desperate tone to his voice, "What's the game plan here?"

He sighed, "We cannot help them, trooper. Not without compromising our own mission. If we fail, then everything will be for naught."

Eighty's reply died in his throat and he nodded his head in defeat, "Aye, m'lord."

"What's our insertion plan?" L asked

Kylo Ren took a moment to send a telemetry feed to the troopers, explaining as he did. "We'll break off from the second company and make our way to the backline of the temple there, at sector Echo-5-4. There's an ancient sewer system that runs underneath the Temple. The entrances have been blocked off, but I'm sure we can make our way through."

"Ugh," L groaned aloud, "why does it always have to be a sewer?"

"Are you complaining?"

"No sir. Just griping."

"There's a difference?" Eighty asked

"Complaining implies I'm not gonna jump in the sewer. Griping means I'll just moan about it when I jump in."

"Good answer," the Lord of Ren nodded as the doors to the gunship closed, and they began their descent to the planet below.

* * *

 **A note from the Authors:**

* * *

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Squasher here. Special thanks to Terminator57, IanAlphaAxe and Transformers g1's-Prime for their reviews.


	42. Chapter 35 - Desperate Measures

**Chapter 40 - Desperate Measures**

* * *

 **Takodana**

 **Outskirts of the Jedi Temple**

* * *

"Ones, where the hell are you at with that shield generator?"

" _Sorry mum, this damn thing is blasted! I'm working as fast as I can!"_

Phasma whirled around as she saw a blur of brown closing in on her position, firing blindly into them as bodies started dropping all around her, friendlies and enemies. An explosion rocked behind her and she rolled forward, but not before she felt the all too familiar hot poker of pain ran up her thigh. She had no time to react as another assault team attempted to clear the breach. One rounded the corner, both of their weapons raised and firing as the Ranger dropped.

She smelled the burning flesh long before the pain echoed from her shoulder.

"Work faster!" she hissed as she fought on desperately despite the injury. Even now, a corpsman was attempting to treat her wounds and she wasn't being the most cooperative of patients.

"Damnit lady, would you hold still!?"

Phasma saw the flash of something in the distance in her peripherals; pulling the corpsman down as a bolt whipped past her head and stuck the wall behind her. She quickly returned fire, ducking in and out of cover while hoping to draw the sniper into revealing his position.

"I got him!" a pirate shouted, loading a rocket launcher to take him out.

"No damnit, stay down!"

A flash of a sapphire struck and the pirate slumped to the floor. Phasma scurried out, shooting to draw the attention of the sniper as the corpsman pulled the grenadier away. She ducked back when a second shot from a different direction nearly blew her head off. She cursed, pulling out a rod to snake around her cover before that was shot from her hand.

"Three snipers," she cursed before dropping into her comm, "Phasma to all units, I need a heavy weapon crew to fall back to my position."

" _Negative, ma'am,"_ Hevy's voice came online, " _we're pinned down here, too! I got buggers tryna to rush my position-grenade!"_

She swung around, seeing an explosion in the distance. The corpsman's face grew into a snarl as he applied a gel-bacta bandage to the downed grenadier, and took off at a running crouch across the yard.

"KEEP ME COVERED!" the corpsman shouted, Twenty-Three reaching over and pulling him down.

"You crazy bastard! You could've gotten hit!"

"Just keep me covered, buckethead!"

Phasma suddenly heard something snap, and she swung her head around to see a team of brown figures crawling up the hill through the tall grass. She immediately tried to bring her weapon up to engage before sniper fire blew apart the column next to her and she whirled back as the debris slashed her across the cheek.

She heard the enemy now running to overrun their position, explosives flying over the wall into the midst of the courtyard. Madly, she and several others raced to toss them back, getting a grazing bolt across her back for her trouble.

Then a boisterous voice came on the line, " _Raptor 3 to Raider 1, I'm coming up on your 3 o'clock with friendlies! Get your heads down, hell's coming through!"_

A series of explosions rocked the position in front of her, the vibrations jolting her like bad turbulence as these were followed by screams and blaster fire. Moments later, remnants of a battered but still fighting platoon soon rushed past her, many of them bearing wounded barely holding on.

Below them, Raptor 3 was marching up the hill backwards, unleashing every ounce of its firepower into the hills, ruins and treelines surrounding them. " _Come on, show me what you got!"_ he shouted over his intercom, " _You think you can take me!? Bring it on!"_

A pair of rockets struck the side of his cockpit, smoke and fragmentation billowing out. The walker stumbled, nearly fell, but kept on fighting regardless.

" _Is that… all you… got?"_ the pilot coughed into his mike, sounding like he was hacking up blood.

"Raptor, get out of there!" Phasma roared as she and several other pirates rose from cover and started shooting at the enemy squads now closing the distance.

" _Good idea!"_ and Raptor 3 spun on its heels to leap over the ruins into the midst of the courtyard, it's armor a ruin of smoke and smelted arma-plate. Already, the corpsman was ripping open the caved-in armored door amidst enemy fire, finding the pilot a bloody pincushion of fragmentation and burns.

He shot them a mad bloody grin regardless, his thumb raised. "Just... stim me up, doc. I… I can take it."

"Rocket, get down!" someone shouted as bodies were sent sailing all over the place. "Get to cover, damnit!"

"Hell with that!" The walker's cockpit door slammed shut as the blackened armor glass slits were kicked out. In another moment, Raptor 3 was bouncing all over the hill, providing fire as he went. " _You want some of this!? Bring it on! I'm right here!"_

It was then that despite the insanity of the war raging around them, the damn pirates started singing "Corellian Ladies" again. It was loud, boisterous and utterly insane, and yet Phasma found it strangely comforting.

" _You guys are mental, you know that?"_ Ones shouted over the line, " _Bloody institutional!"_

" _Damn right we are!"_ Hevy chuckled back, " _Better to go out singin' than anything else!"_

"ARTILLERY!" someone screamed. Phasma wrenched her head up, seeing and hearing the arching shapes of death coming to bury them.

" _ONES!"_ The whine of death echoed through the air, everyone scrambling to cover that wouldn't save them.

" _Got-"_ the rest of the troopers words were drowned by the mother of all explosions. Phasma's ears rang like feudal world bells, the world black as pitch… and then she saw the shimmering blue light above a second too close for comfort. Moments later another barrage struck the line followed by another. The shield held.

" _Lass, I could bloody kiss you!"_ Hevy laughed maniacally, his voice like an echo chamber. An exchange between them went, something about stealing beds and throwing people on them, but Phasma wasn't listening. She felt a relief sweeter than anything else. They were going to make it, but now it was time for her to do her job.

"Everybody," she breathed into her mike, "this isn't over. Collect your ammo, tend the wounded, set sentries. And for pity's sake, get Raptor some proper medical attention."

" _When are reinforcements comin' in, cap'n?"_

"Hopefully? Soon," she sighed as she rose to her feet, walking the perimeter and noting the blaster fire had stopped. Below, she saw the enemy coming up through the grass and she tensed for a second wave, but it didn't come. They were collecting their dead and wounded.

"So that's why they stopped," she mused softly. She considered engaging them now while they had the chance, but she shook her head. They needed the respite, too. She spotted Chief Petty Officer Mako addressing some of his men, and she came to his shoulder. "How are we doing?"

"Splendid, ma'am," he replied with a tight smile, "everybody's wounded, half of 'em in a bad way. We're almost out of grenades, half-low on ammo, surrounded with a shield that could go down at any moment. But hey, least the boys can still sing."

"Heh, there is that. We just have to hold out a little longer."

"Define longer, though? We're cut off from the landing zone."

"They'll find a way, Chief. You pirates are nothing if not full of surprises."

"Damn straight. I-" he suddenly stopped when they all heard something beeping loudly. Immediately, everybody went to the perimeter to see the enemy moving away with their wounded, and yet the beeping was getting louder. "Whose monitor?"

"Mine!" a pirate came up with his heart detector, showing a single signal growing larger and larger not three yards away. Slowly, everyone moved in tandem until they were standing over a patch of the courtyard, their weapons drawn. "I think they're underneath us!"

Suddenly, the entire ground started to shake before it split apart and black cylinders were thrown through the air. The air was choked with smoke, blinded by flashes and ringing like bells. Then a warping ball of fire reached out and engulfed three of the pirates standing on the perimeter. The horrible smell of cooking flesh and the screams of agonizing death stunned them all for the precious seconds for the enemy to come piling at them like a human tidal wave.

Phasma reacted quickly, firing point-blank at a dark mass and watching it materialize into a body crashing into her. More tackled into the men, shooting and hacking with drawn knives. A pair crashed into Ones, bowing her over. Another went into Twenty-Three, who threw the Ranger into a wall and kicked another back before something tackled him from behind.

Phasma rose to shoot them off, but something knocked her to the floor. A knife was in her face, a split second reaction causing it to miss her as she threw an elbow at her attacker. He stumbled, but then raised the blade again to stab her in the sternum. She threw her hand forward, trying to trap the arm as she pushed into his shoulder with her free hand, tumbling them both over.

She came on top then, throwing a punch the Ranger quickly caught before landing a boot in her face that sent her sprawling. Blood exploded from her nose, but rage replaced the pain. The Ranger was going for his sidearm, and she knew he wouldn't miss at this distance. Her hand went for the Messer at her hip, closing the distance as she swung the vibro-sword.

The blade caught him in the hand, chopping off the forefinger and thumb along with the rest of blaster. The Ranger screamed, and she closed the distance to finish him off. Amazingly the Ranger fought on, thrusting his knife forward and deflecting the overhead chop aimed for his head. Phasma however merely swung with the motion, finishing him off with a deft thrust.

She looked up, spotting a Ranger grabbing Mako from behind. She swung the single-edged longsword into him, nearly chopping the Ranger in half before she spun and slashed the arm off another. Then something struck her in the chest, the smell of burning polymer causing her to gag as she sent to the floor.

Something kicked her hard in the head and the sword flew from her hand; the gleaming finish of a blaster pistol inches from her face. Strangely, the end didn't come, and she saw the man scrutinizing her for a moment. "You're not a pirate, are you?"

Phasma's eyes went around to see everybody else in the same predicament. The man holding her commed his mike, "Boss, we've taken back the hill, and I think we've got First Order prisoners here. What-"

He was suddenly interrupted by a garbled warning, and their eyes ran up to the sky. Phasma took a moment and saw it: a series of scarlet red meteorites crashing through the upper atmosphere and coming down fast. Seconds later, the red hot tear-shaped structures slammed into the ground in a shower of dust and stone. Blasters went up as the sound of hydraulic doors falling echoed followed by a piercing, mechanical growl. " _Enemy Meatbags identified. Engaging!"_

A torrent of terrible blaster fire followed as the gleaming silver forms of B2 Super Battle Droids emerged from the smoke like wrathful specters. Above them, the roar of gunships flew overhead, tearing into the woods ahead. The second wave had arrived, and Phasma let out a sigh of relief. They'd made it.

* * *

Amidst the storm of gunships descending into the enemy, one made a left turn out of formation and began a descent into the forest. Inside, the organic occupants clutched their weapons nervously as the doors to the dropship opened to reveal the world below. Kylo Ren was glad he was wearing the helm. He didn't want the others to see his face and the expression he bore.

" _Approaching insertion zone, m'lord,"_ the pilots voice rang in his ear, and he acknowledged. Time was of the essence now, and they'd entered the most critical stage of the operation. The dropship came to a halt over a broken down aquifer and he leapt out at a run, landing in the midst of the field with a cat's grace.

He ignited his lightsaber, stretching out his sense into the treeline ahead but found nothing. A grim smile crossed his face: the plan was working. He signalled above, and the Commando Droids leapt in after him while their human equivalents repelled via fast ropes.

Kylo commed the Gunship Pilot, "Return to the battlefield. Your job's done here," he then turned to his fellows, "Follow me and stay close."

They double-timed it through the ancient moss covered ruins and fortifications, following the trail of the aquifer until they found themselves at the back of a star-shaped fortress. Above, they saw several guards quietly patrolling the ramparts.

"On me," Kylo commanded as he thrust his hands forward and ripped the guards down, the Storm Commandos dropping them with precise blaster shots before they had a chance to scream. Levitating the bodies under cover, the strike team moved out into the open courtyard.

"What now?" SC-011 asked, flexing her aim about carefully.

"This," Kylo stretched out with the Force and a piece of the stoned floor slid up out of the ground with a dull scrape, revealing the hidden canal below.

"Whoa," SC-080 gasped, "you see that, L? I wouldn't have guessed."

"I did, Eighty. M'lord, how did you know about this?"

"Because I've been here before," he replied, jumping down into the canal and leading the way into the darkness. His visor's night vision came online, coating the tight concrete tunnel in a sea of green. "This was part of an intricate plumbing system that the ancient founders of this place built."

"So this is a sewer," L sighed, running her hand through the knee high water, "much cleaner than I thought it would be."

"It hasn't been used in the years since the Jedi moved here and renovated the Temple to more modern standards."

"Still pretty damn impressive," Eighty boomed, "I mean, they had to build this by hand. Damn impressive. So, what did the Jedi use it for now?"

"Recently? An escape route, and that is precisely what I'm counting on." They came around a bend saw their route blocked off by a large rock pile and a collapsed roof. However, they noticed the ground too dropped off, and the water was still flowing.

L groaned, "We're not gonna swim through that, are we?"

Kylo smirked behind the mask, "If wounded Jedi Masters and Padawans could swim it, then I'm sure you can too."

"He's got you there, L," Eighty chuckled.

"Oh shut up," she growled as they dived into the depths below, eventually coming up to what appeared to be a main junction line leading up. The stone tunnels appeared younger or at least better kept, but that also meant more used. "What an incredible smell you've discovered."

"Ah, the bogs on Tyyrr were worse," Eighty chuckled, "and those had bugs! Gah, I hate bugs!"

" _Lord Kylo,"_ one of the Commando droids addressed, " _motion sensors detect movement above us at-"_

"I know. We're under the main water grid now. We'll follow this line up, and that'll connect us with the line to the shower rooms."

Kylo sensed a smirk on L's face, "Ones'll wish she was here, then," she held up her chronowatch, "we've got 33 minutes to get this done, m'lord."

"Then keep up," and he took the lead, leaping directly up into the next tunnel system. Kylo held up a fist and they all ducked back into the shadows as they heard heavy footfalls echoing off the stone.

Their weapons readied tightly, they observed four men moving past them in a patrol pattern. They were not like the Rangers they'd seen before, instead garbed in full armor-harnesses painted gray and black with red visored helmets shaped like skulls. Even their strides seemed unworldly, like imperceivable blurs always in motion.

" _Who the hell are these guys?"_ Eighty asked quietly through their comm's.

" _Antarian Paladins,"_ Kylo Ren replied, " _even paramilitaries who work for the Jedi need their own counter to someone like me."_

When they'd moved on, the commandos and SIth moved out. Another minute of trudging through slime coated and rat infested tunnels later, they finally reached the ladder leading up to their entry point.

"Sense anything?" Eighty asked.

"I'm sensing a lot of things, Trooper, there are a lot of minds here. But it seems clear enough."

"Good enough, let's move," and they ascended the ladder, quickly fanning out into defensive positions along a steam-aired square-room with two entrances. "Where to?"

Before Kylo could answer, he suddenly tensed. "Oh hell."

Vents running along the bottom of the walls suddenly popped open, and a thick green smoke began hissing through. Kylo knew that wasn't their only response considering he and the others had filter masks, and he was proven right when the doors suddenly opened and grenades were thrown through.

"Cover!" he shouted as he raised his hands to catch the explosives, but before he could throw them back the doors closed again. Kylo threw them instead to the far side of the room, everybody else falling back to the other side when they detonated. The concussive force was deafening, even as Kylo Ren threw up a protective Force barrier to dissipate the damage.

A split second after, the doors opened again and blurs of movement rushed into the room. The crack of ozone and the dull hum of shock mauls filled the air, the electrical patterns running blue arcs around the room like the ectoplasma of phantoms.

"You came to the wrong shower room, Sithspawn!" a modulated voice growled as the enemy closed in.

* * *

" _Here they come. Get ready."_

The HUD in Finn's helmet confirmed as much, marking out the company of reinforcements coming straight for them. His hands tightened around his weapons as his senses now expanding to their fullest potential. He could hear the pirates shared whispers and curses, and if he focused hard enough smell their perspiration.

It was unnerving as it was inhuman, but he took it as it was.

" _McKensy, hit the betties."_

" _Wake up, sweetie. You're dead."_

The explosions rang out with thunderous reports and turned the land into a literal meat grinder. The mine's ball-bearings ripped through wood and flesh alike; smoke, soot and screams of agony and confusion filling the air as the Sergeant Major's voice rang out through the comms, " _Engage!"_

" _OOHAH!"_ was the collective scream as a half platoon's worth of green armored men rose from the underbush to take the enemy by surprise. Blasterfire, grenades, rockets and sniper fire tore into pirate ratings with devastating effect. It was the perfect ambush, and Finn wasn't so much thinking as he was reacting to the coming situation.

Targets came into view and he shot them down, tossing grenades out when the chance came and watching his flanks for an attack. It was all instinctual, beat into him over decades of study and training, and in a strange way Finn found himself enjoying the situation. He was in the company of truly professional soldiers who knew how to operate as a flawless system where every man knew his part and function.

Despite the superficial differences in methods, the uniforms and gear, and even with the general signals they used, Finn found himself fitting into things like a glove. Yet, something about the whole thing felt different, and it was more than just a heightened sense of things. It was the way the world danced with the violence, the tell tale sounds of things happening or… about to happen.

That realization hit him when he saw the enemy ahead drawing their weapons on him. Their movements were somehow predictable, like he knew exactly where they would be seconds later. To this, he moved just a few inches to the side in a barely registered movement and a trail of blaster bolts whipped past his head to scorch the tree behind him.

"You… how could you miss!?"

"He moved!"

"If we survive this, you're puttin' more hours at the range!"

"If," Finn replied, and in that moment he ignited Lor San's lightsaber. It's brilliant cyan blade was met by the grim determination in his eyes. Now he understood, and so did the enemy.

"T-two Jedi!? The bounty only said one!"

"Nevermind that, kill him!"

They opened fire and Finn charged, his body moved the necessary inches to allow bolts to fly past him. He retaliated in kind, his blaster barking as he closed in with his blade singing its death tune. An arm fell, a flash of crimson filled his vision, the ground came rolling over as his fist struck something soft and hard. It all became a massive blur to him as his training, and something else, took over.

The smell of ozone and the shade of blue marked the world as screams echoed and were just as suddenly silenced. It had lasted fifteen seconds, but to Finn it had been only been a heartbeat. He let out a breath he hadn't been holding, his eyes becoming wide at the sight of the dead and dismembered.

"By the Force, kiddo," he heard behind him, actually feeling the non-com's face turn somewhere between horror and awe, "damn. I guess that settles it, you do have the gift."

Finn stared into the plasma, holding what was not his but was given to him anyway for purposes he was only beginning to understand. "For better or for worse, I suppose I do, Sergeant Major"

" _Drop pods incoming!"_

They had to look no further than up to see blazing trails arcing across the void and coming straight down. By the trajectory, they had seconds, and it made Finn realize the enemy must've had a support ship somewhere close by.

"Fall back and regroup!" Merrick called over his comm, "Finn, you're with me."

They only got twenty yards before the first of the pods came down with a billowing crash that shook the ground tremendously, their doors ejecting to unleash their droid occupants. The next several minutes became a running engagement, and Finn discovered that the droids old subroutines prioritized shooting him over the others. He took full advantage of that, keeping his blade ignited to draw their fire while the others closed in and took them out one by one.

The strategy wasn't flawless, and his armor was soon riddled with scorch marks as his body ached. Still, it was buying the others time.

"Droideka!" someone shouted, and Finn heard the distinctive report of their movement through the forest. They came into sight, curled up in their ball forms as they lept in from above. In a heartbeat, he took aim and blasted the one on the left in an explosion of fiber-metal.. He turned to do the same to the one on the right but found it literally transforming in midair.

It hit the ground with a loud thud, it's shield up and it's blaster armed before he could stop it. All he could do was run as the crab-like droid chased him through the ruins with an unending barrage that soon had him pinned.

"Hey! Eat this!" and the distinctive explosion of a rocket impacting drew Finn out just enough to see that droids shields were still up! It spun and fired into the hills behind it, the troopers taking potshots followed by grenades that just bounced off its shields.

Finn spotted Merrick run past its distracted flank and rolled a detonator at a slowed pace that would bypass its shielding, only it didn't. It just bounced off and Merrick had to dive down a ravine to avoid being torn to pieces. " _Damnit! The pirates must've adjusted its frequency!"_

" _Yeah, but its cannons are still poking through the shield! I think someone could probably walk through it!"_

" _Good luck getting someone to do that, MakTarversh!"_

"Keep it distracted," Finn said through the comm, "I'll do it."

He'd never faced a droideka in battle, but he'd seen enough simulations about them to have an understanding of its one glaring weakness: it had the tendency to tunnel-vision due to its unspoken purpose of fighting Jedi. That would give him a very small window before it swung around, and Finn ran for all he was worth.

There was a subconscious level of control in his movements he found startling as his footfalls fell softer than they should've, but this too was something he accepted and leveraged. He took a low-wall at a leap, landing just behind the droid. It had been too loud though, and the droid began to pivot his way. Panic screamed for him to run, but his ice cold discipline forced him to keep his stride to just a casual walk.

The cannons were almost on him, and with one step Finn was in. He grabbed the weapon arm by the ball joint and wrenched it up to place the emitter of his saber flush against the head. A single ignition followed, the shields crackled out and the crab-like figure crashed to the floor with a flutter of moss and leaves.

Finn would've let out a restrained breath, but then he felt something tremble within him: a warning that was mental that soon became physical as he felt the ground shake again, but not to the level it had with the drop pod assault a few minutes earlier. "Sergeant Major, we need to move. Something else is coming."

There was a sudden flash of crimson ahead followed by more as trees started falling down in ruin. Ahead, he saw a fireteam comprised both of humanoids and their Ewok sniper team them fleeing in their direction.

" _Chicken Walker! Chicken Walker!"_ their translated babble screamed over the comm, and soon a pair of the old Imperial Scout Walkers came thundering through the underbrush.

" _Come back 'ere, you little bastards!"_ one of them roared as he unleashed a torrent of grenades, " _I'm gonna tenderize ya and cook you over a spidel!"_

"Chalk 4, draw them towards our position! Everybody, get on their flanks and put rockets up their pipes!"

Immediately, the troopers took to cover and began firing at the bipedal tanks with everything they had. Moments later, the flash of rockets from the troopers disposable launchers roared out and struck the walkers with a loud cacophony. The black smoke cleared however and the walkers were still coming, Finn recognizing the layers of cage-like slat armor bolted onto the frame being the cause.

Now pair were tearing their way through and blasting anybody who got in their way. In a matter of seconds, they were going to be right on top of them, and Finn could already feel the pirate company coming in behind.

"Fall back! Bounding Overwatch! Fall back!" Merrick ordered, and the squads began leapfrogging while peppering the enemy with blaster fire and their remaining explosives. Even the Ewoks and their support crews tried to target their weak points with sniper fire. Nothing they threw at the walkers seemed to stop them, and they were quickly being run down.

It took exactly three seconds for Finn to consider the insanity of what he was going to do, and then he charged.

" _Hey, what's the crazy Jedi doing!?"_

" _Finn, get the hell back here!"_

He wasn't listening. He put his entire focus into the task ahead and soon the Force did the rest. He ignited his lightsaber, and the walkers soon took notice. " _Jedi! Blast him!"_

Finn reacted as his brain processed what the walkers would do in the next few seconds. He bobbed and weaved, leaping and bounding over terrain as the heavy blaster cannons followed him just a second too late. He could feel the hot wood and dirt tearing into his arms and legs as he did so, but he fought back the pain and kept going.

" _He's goin' under! Outlaw, flank-!"_

But it was too late. Finn was under the walker's firing arc and he swung his blade. The hot plasma struck the walkers skeletal left leg and seared straight through. As the walker groaned from the shifting weights, he spun on the ball of his foot and cleaved through the right leg. In moments, the walker slid forward and crashed face first into the ground.

That however left Finn exposed to the second Walker, and he only had the mental reaction to dive for the fallen walker. The bolts tracked him and struck the armor, throwing him back with the concussive force and sending melted fragments screaming at him. The horror of Slip dying in his arms flashed through his mind as he expected the next few seconds to be his last.

The fragmentation however stopped just shy of his body, and Finn realized he was floating! A small grin parted his lips as he was dropped to the floor, and the cloud of floating metal fragments were sent flying back into the AT-ST, tearing its main cannons apart.

Rey stepped out from the shadows, her hand extended in a challenge as the pirate walker snarled, " _You wench! Eat this!"_ and grenades were launched from its sponson cannon. She merely moved her hand up just a little and they were stopped in midair before being thrown right back to its sender.

To its testament, it's armor held amidst the heavy explosion but she wasn't done. With a simple flick of the wrist, an internal wire inside the drive motor was ripped out and the walker stumbled about before crashing into the ground.

A moment later, a rocket tore through the underbrush and finished it off with a dazzling explosion. Finn turned to see Han Solo up on the hill, a smoking launcher in his arms as a company of Rangers led by Chewbacca flooded from the ground like ants. They crashed into the advancing Pirate infantry, engaging them in close combat with even Chewbacca throwing men around like ragdolls.

To his further amazement, they were quickly followed by a fleet of speeder bikes that caught them in a pincer move. Finn's unspoken question was answered as Han descended the hill, "Rangers had 'em underground. Took 'em forever to get 'em ready though. Sergeant Major, what's the status of your men?"

"Ready for revenge, sir," he replied, fixing a bayonet on his blaster rifle, "where you need us?"

Han gestured to the left flank, "We'll cut these chumps off from their their LZ. Rey, Finn, you're with them."

"Oohah, sir," and the troopers took off at a run. Before Rey could join them, Finn caught her by the hand. After a moment of unspoken revelation, she nodded and looked upward at the battle taking place above.

* * *

"Black 3, watch your six! Black 4, move ahead and support Black 7! Black 2, you're on me! We're going after those bombers!"

" _Acknowledged, Black Leader,"_ Deliah's voice echoed through Poe's comms, " _that's only if I can keep up at this point!"_

Poe grudgingly acknowledged that without saying so. Already he had 43 kills to his name, and that was quickly made 44 as his blaster cannons tore apart a droid fighter by the wings and sent it floating in the void. Of course, he'd chalked it up to the fighters being nothing like the Strikers the First Order had fielded against him on Jakku, but he knew there was something more to it.

He was an experienced pilot, and he'd flown more combat missions than most in his generation. Yet, there was a measure of control foriegn to him, almost farsight in nature, and he recognized it for what it was. The Old Man had certainly talked enough about it with his stories about Luke and his former wingman, Corran Horn.

"Then try to keep up then, Black 2," Poe grinned behind his pressure mask, taking in the extra oxygen as he pulled the throttled and rocketed towards his targets. These were making an attack run on the _Kenobi,_ and Poe and Deliah quickly cut across their bow to split them up. Their blaster bolts quickly ripped the first bomber in line before the other filed off, their escorts moving to chase them away.

" _Line 'em up for me, Black Leader! I'm gonna catch your score!"_

"As you wish, m'lady," and Poe spun around to race towards Deliah's X-Wing with the fighters in pursuit.

 _Oh no, Poe!_ BB-8 growled in binary, _Last time you tried this, I nearly got my head taken off!_

"Oh please, that'd be an improvement! Besides, she's not gonna kill us… right?"

" _Make catching your score a lot easier. Get ready to pull the throttle, I'm gonna hit 'em with canister shot."_

"Okay, this could go bad. BB-8, divert all additional power to forward shields."

 _Your girlfriend's gonna get us killed,_ he grumbled as they flew straight for several seconds before Poe pulled the dime and raced straight upward. As he cleared, Deliah fired a pair of canister missiles. Against shielded targets, the fragmentation weapons were moot, but these weren't shielded. The subsonic munitions erupted just ahead of their targets, and soon ripped them up like fine liver.

" _26,"_ Deliah said over the comm, " _You'd best watch yourself, Black Leader."_

"In your dreams, 2."

" _Black Leader, this is Black 3!"_ Snap called, " _Me and 4 are cleared out and we're coming to you!"_

"10-4, Black 3. Rally on me, and let's take these punks out."

Without their escorts, the hyena bombers proved no match for the combined four T-70 X-Wings as they were turned into a floating scrap pile.

" _Black Leader, this is Silver Leader,"_ another voice entered his comm, and Poe spotted a squadron of K-Wing bombers coming at them from the _Kenobi's_ hangar bays, " _we are rearmed and looking to hurt something. Care to join us?"_

"Gladly. Black Squadron, rally on me. We got-"

 _Poe, do you hear me?_

It was Rey's voice, and Poe stifled his surprise enough to ask, _I do. What's going on?_

 _Poe, the pirates have deployed a support ship above the Temple and are raining down drop pods. I think they might get desperate enough to glass us at this point._

That grim thought sent a shiver down his spine. The only reason the pirates hadn't done that yet was because they didn't want to risk glassing the map to the Forge, too. But if things were getting desperate enough, they might just chance it.

 _Understood. I'll see what I can do._

" _Black Leader, what's wrong?"_ Silver Leader came on the line. Poe quickly explained, and he actually felt the Bomber Leader scoff, " _That ship would have to be in the very back of the formation, and we have no idea where exactly. There's no way that-"_

" _Black Leader,"_ Lu'lu interrupted, " _I see a squadron of bombers and fighters moving away from the battlefield towards the planet. I'm reckoning they're goin' where we need to be goin'."_

Poe nodded, eyeing his tactical display. They were right under the enemy fleet, probably to try and avoid detection. If they followed their path, they might be able to punch clear through the blockade. He sent a coded tactical package to the _Kenobi's_ fighter control and then hit his comm.

"Silver Leader, it's up to you. It's your bombers we'll need. But if we're gonna do this, we need do it now. We can't wait for the Old Man's approval."

There was a notable silence for several seconds before the bomber commander chuckled, " _Kriff it, let's do it. Just make sure you keep us covered when we do. Don't let the gunnery crews have all the fun after all."_

* * *

"Hyena bombers are inbound, cap'n," Sydow's XO reported as the tactical feed came online. The Crimson Corsair pursed his lips tightly. Every minute, Antilles and his forces were slowly squeezing his blockade like a tightening fist, and he'd already suffered heavy losses. He checked his watch, the time reading 19 minutes. They should've been out by now, and his eyes ran to the monitors on the ground.

Phasma and her reinforced company were trying to force their way towards the Temple but we're meeting heavy resistance. The supporting company had been stopped dead in it tracks in the forest outside the Temple, and the head cams from the Commando Droids supporting Lord Kylo were incomprehensible blurs of motion that no one could discern.

In short, things had gone to hell in a handbasket, and Sydow had authorized a laser guided fire mission directly on the Temple grounds. These had been loaded with bunker-buster and fragmentation munitions. He hoped that would be enough.

"C-cap'n, there is a squad of flying torpedo boxes following the Hyena Bombers!" his comm officer reported. Sydow swung his chair, and spotted the two squadrons coming under the main blockade. Already, the other ships of the picket line were trying to shoot them down, but most of the ships there were either out of position or were too badly damaged.

The few fighter reserves they had were being scrambled to plug the gap, but they were not going to stop the enemy in time before they hit the rear of the formation.

"Contact _The Rylothian Heart._ Warn 'em what's coming."

"Cap'n, bombers have hit atmo and are approachin' target areas. Escorts are still on them."

Sydow sighed at that as the feed came through. By the skin of their teeth, they could pull this off and get the hell out of here before the New Republic came in force. That hope died almost as soon as it came to be when anti-aircraft fire suddenly struck the approaching squadron.

"What the Seven Corellian Hells!?" Bonnie exclaimed, "Their defenses are supposed to be down!"

Sydow's brow creased. The quickly cutting feed of the fighters and bombers showed they were not being cut to pieces by blaster fire, but instead by what could only be slugthrower munition. He needed to be sure, and ordered for _The Rylothian Heart's_ telemetry. In a moment, the hazy imagery showed what he feared: triple barrelled man-powered ballistic anti-aircraft guns, and they were scattered throughout the valley in disguised firepits.

The imagery soon brought a cold smile to his craggy face. "Clever gits. First, they let us land so we can't glass 'em, and now they bring out the guns we're about to bomb them. And I wager those X-Wings and torpedo boxes are meant for the _Heart._ "

"Sounds like they learned from you, sir," Bonnie shook her head, "what do we do? We can't just pull out without the map."

His eyes watched the monitor. The X-Wings and K-Wings were closing in on _The Rylothian Heart,_ and he knew that the _Acclamator II-Class_ Assault Cruiser wasn't going to be able to stand up long against the K-Wings. The undersized gunships were designed to kill the best the Empire had in its heyday.

He ran through his options, and none of them were good. He could try to pull back into a tighter blockade, but such a repositioning threatened to expose his already badly beat fleet. And at this point, he couldn't afford to pull out more of his squadrons or try to land more troops.

They were out of time.

"No we can't, Bonnie," he said at last, "so I'm gonna do the damnable thing. Contact The Rylothian Heart, and order her to fire on the Temple grounds."

The horror on her face was one he knew all too well, "Cap'n, our boys are down there!"

"And they're dying, Bonnie, just as we are. We cannot let this job die, too. Dispatch a warning to the boys, and commence the orbital bombardment."

"Yes sir," she whispered as she set about her task. Sydow stared down at the planet, and behind his mask began to weep. If there truly was an afterlife, he hoped the ghost of his boys would forgive him for what he had to do. That Phasma would forgive him.

"Rylothian Heart reports bombardment in 60 seconds, sir!"

Sydow nodded, and steeled himself for what came next.

* * *

 **A note from the Authors:**

* * *

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Squasher here. Currently, we've hit the end of our backlog, as we are still writing Chapter 40. We will work to get it done and hopefully recover our chapter lead by the next publishing date, the 29th of September. However, this may be subject to change, and I will post an update if it is. We'd also like to thank Kaiju Alpha, Terminator57, and darth Queidus for their reviews. One other thing, a while back one of our commenters suggested the possibility of setting up a discord channel to help hash out ideas and talk about reviews more indepth. Is this something you'd all like to see?


	43. Chapter 36 - Rain of Fire

**Chapter 41 - Rain of Fire**

* * *

 **Takodana**

 **Beneath the Jedi Temple**

* * *

"I am going to eviscerate you, Sith!" the modulated words were punctuated by the energy maul singing through the air for Kylo Ren's head. To his left and right, two more of the black armored Paladins were closing in to target his legs, and behind him the droids and Storm Commandos were either locked in combat or being put down.

With only a millisecond to spare, Kylo feinted the appearance of blocking with his blade to draw his opponents in. They didn't disappoint, closing in like wolves, and Kylo drew his body down in one smooth movement to slam his fist into the ground. He was tempted to just punch straight through and perhaps drop the room into the sewer below, but he also doubted the integrity of the roof above him.

Instead, he exercised restraint as his fist hit the ground, generating a powerful telekinetic blast that cratored the floor but did not break it and in turn sent a wave crashing all around him. The blast floored everything, including his allies. In a way though, he suspected that helped, but already the Paladins in front of him were recovering with a swiftness that was inhuman, even for a Force User.

He knew why. They'd been trained by Jedi Master A'Sharad Hett himself in the Teras Kasi martial arts, allowing them to move and react almost as fast as one blessed with the Force. Additionally, he suspected that they'd been modified; perhaps in the same chemical way the Storm Commandos behind him were. The unfortunate difference though was that while the Commandos had been designed to be superior soldiers, the Paladins were made to kill **him** : a Lord of Ren.

That much was reflected when he threw a telekinetic push at one of the Paladins powerful enough to leave a dent in the stone wall, while the others were already closing in. He stepped back, his fingers flexing the loose and broken stones on the ground and hurling them at them like missiles. They weaved and dodged like mist, contorting their bodies to avoid the incoming attacks while using the momentum to lunge themselves forward.

Kylo met them head on, weaving a string of attacks into conservative swings, each one meant to hit them both in the same bout before coming down again. The Paladins dodged his attacks, if barely; using their mauls to parry his saber while attempting a repost. The Lord of Ren did not afford them this and however fast they were, they could never be as fast as **him**.

He realized they didn't have to be, when his blade finally caught a Paladin across the chest. Instead of lacerating the pectoral or putting a scorch line across his bodyplate, it struck something with the flash of blue and the crackle of ozone. Instinctively, he took advantage of the momentary shock to send his opponent across the room, then swinging his arm to catch his flankers attack vector and strike him across his gaunt helmet with the lightsaber.

He felt the impact even through his fingers, but amazingly the Paladin took the blow in stride and rolled past him to disengage a few yards away. Kylo watched him go, noting now the shimmering blue outline around his body reflect and then disappear in a moment. They were wearing body shields.

 _So, Rey's father did get it working, then,_ Kylo mused softly, noting the sudden shift in the air. He saw the two he'd thrown coming at him, but they weren't what he'd sensed.

"Your time has come, Sithspawn!" they growled, and he realized they were baiting him. In the moments before they closed, he stretched his senses out and noted that while their disciplined minds made them hard to read, even their honed movements had to generate sound. He heard the soft pull of metal on leather, and he spun with his hand extended.

There, the first man he'd thrown had gotten around him and was drawing what looked like a heavy caliber slugthrower. At this range, he knew he wouldn't be fast enough to catch the round, and he suspected it was probably flechette or maybe even a time-charged explosive. So he instead extended his reach and pulled at the man's aiming arm just before he pulled the trigger.

The round whipped past his head by millimeters, and he heard the dull plop as it struck something fleshy behind him. He didn't let go however, now extending his control over the man's shooting finger. He pressed it, discharging a round and he ducked, another plob echoing behind him.

In that moment, the Paladin's other hand dropped the maul and something cylindrical went out. The Lord of Ren extended his hand out just in time to stop it three feet out, crushing the stun bomb as he did and throwing it hard at the man's helm. The blow stunned him, the shield flashing as it did, and Kylo used that moment to force the man's gun onto him and shoot.

The impact sent him upward, the explosive tip detonating against the shielding. It didn't penetrate, but the man also didn't get up either and Kylo felt his slow heartbeat. Concussive force seemed to do it then, and he mentally communicated this to the two Storm Commandos. They immediately acted on this, switching from trying to shoot or intercept their attackers with their vibro-knives to grappling with their opponents.

Kylo had a newfound respect for the pair, taking blows that even their enhanced physiology was struggling to negate and kept going. Ironically though, the BX Commando Droids were faring poorly, and he suspected that even their droid processors were struggling to keep up with the Paladins movements. That made sense: they didn't fare well against Jedi, either.

He spun then, sensing the previous pair coming at him. They had their guns drawn and shooting, Kylo pushing his hand out desperately to catch the shots in the air. He knew what would come next, and he poured his energies into a defensive shield just before the explosive charges blew. The concussion was harsh, forcing him back as the pain hit him like a wall. He pushed through it though, sending that energy forward with a push that sent one attacker reeling away.

The other however had thrown himself in the air and contorted out of the way. In the milliseconds it took for him to fall, the Paladin fired another shot and took advantage of Kylo's duck to bring his maul crashing into his helm. The blow was reeling, his helmet monitors flickering madly as he felt his nerves stiffen and his head swimming.

He was conscious he was keeling over, and he felt another blow hit him hard in his spine. Even with the armor he wore, the blow sent a ripple of hot pain through him and his brain was fighting to stay conscious. A small part of him wanted the darkness to claim him; to let the nightmare end. The idea sickened him, enraged him, and he felt that rage wash over him hotter than any pain could.

He'd come too far now for it to stop here, and with that he checked his fall by stomping his foot down, bracing there and then slamming his fist into the Paladins' faceplate. He felt his fist pass through the shield, its electricity burning him slightly as he made contact with polymer and metal with a satisfying _crack._

As the man flew and flopped like a cold fish, he heard the groan of his final attacker trying to rise. Kylo had the temptation to skewer the man, but he held his rage in check and settled to instead pull him over and slam his head into the ground. The man was out in the moment of contact.

Kylo panted and turned to the others, finding the Commandos and only three of the droids left desperately trying to hold on. Unlike him, they'd not even managed to bring down even one of the Paladins, and Kylo knew they weren't going to last much longer.

He made a split second-decision, and communicated it mentally to the Troopers before he enacted it. He wrenched his hands forward and yanked the humans and droids to him. The droids were utterly confused by what was happening, but the Storm Commandos took it in stride; shooting even as they were flying and continuing to shoot as they landed.

The Paladins however were hot on their heels, drawing their sidearms as they charged. The Lord of Ren in turn ignited his saber, preparing to meet their assault with his own and buy the others breathing space when he felt the heavens cry out in terror. The ceiling caved in above and started to fall.

* * *

The Pirates were in retreat. To the few greenhorns that was a cause for celebration, but not for the veterans. Though they'd badly hammered the invaders, they hadn't shown any indication of giving up. In fact, they'd been practically throwing themselves at their lines with a kind of desperate courage the men of the Fighting First found both inspiring and heartbreaking.

But now they were retreating en masse, both at once and in an organized fashion. That indicated this had not been a panicked rout, but instead men following orders.

" _Do we go after them?"_ Merrick asked.

" _No, for all we know this is some kind of bait and switch,"_ Han's voice came back on the line, suddenly going grave, " _or something else. Rey, Finn, get up here pronto."_

Finn's grip on his weapons tightened as he complied, looking and listening for the signs of another attempted bombing run or another drop pod attack. He found none, and their absence did more to worry than console him. The Pirates had displayed a kind of creativity that made them unpredictable. What were they up to now?

As he ascended the hill, he saw Rey coming his way. Then out of nowhere she stopped, her eyes going wide. Her mind reeked of panic.

"Master?" Finn asked, "Rey? Are you okay?"

She looked up at the sky, and Finn opened his senses to try and understand what was going on. When he did, he heard Poe screaming, _They're firing! They're firing! Get out of there!_

Rey's arm shot forward, and Finn was sent flying off his feet. In the mere moment of his sudden flight, emerald fire rained from the heavens and came crashing down. The ground were he'd been cratored upon impact, sending debris and vaporized layers shrieking into the air before they too came raining down.

As he righted his trajectory and landed with grace, the skies wept and the forest began to burn like the Seven Hells had been unleashed.

" _Cover!"_ a Ranger screamed through his comm's, " _Get to the tunn-"_ another bolt struck the hill ahead with a billowing explosion, and the voice cut out.

He could see them coming now: the emerald bolts of death soon to tear apart the valley with wanton destruction. He could hear the screams coming, feel the death starting to rise in his bones. He wanted to scream, the sound was starting to overwhelm him. It was though he was drowning!

" _FINN!"_ were it not for Merrick's scream, he would not have lived the next ten seconds. Two bolts came, then three. He ran and ran for all he was worth as the ground trembled with such terror that Finn was sure the world was coming undone. All around him, men were being vaporized by the falling fire, and even when they didn't, the molten glass and rock bombs they produced did.

They came raining down like a creeping barrage, tearing survivors to pieces upon impact. Sometimes, even the very heat they generated was enough to cook them alive. In moments, the air was choked with smoke and ash, making it almost impossible to see or breathe even with the visored helmet Finn wore. Already his eyes were weeping from contact and his throat was become a ragged mess of hacked coughing.

" _Finn!"_ Merrick's voice came on again, " _Get over here you idiot! Over here!"_

He looked and saw a silhouette waving at him like a maniac, almost getting glassed in the process. He sprinted in his direction as fast as he could as the Sergeant Major led everybody caught in the barrage in the direction of the retreating Pirates. Finn could see the logic, and the faint hope that they might be able to outrun the rain of fire above.

That hope died when Finn saw the impact tearing them apart seconds before it did. He screamed for them to move, but he had no idea the effect he had when the prediction became real and he was thrown head over head. The world became a massive blur of ash, screams and continuous waves of pain as he flew over the lip of the hill and down it.

He tried to correct his landing, tried to grab onto something to stop himself but the ceaseless barrage kept shaking the ground too much. Even trees growing on the slope started to fall after him, and it was all he could do not to be crushed by them as he kept falling. This made him utter helpless as he slammed into everything else going down, his body screaming in agony as the breath was knocked from him and his brain swam.

He was seeing white then, only dimly aware that he was flopping over again and the ground was coming for him. He fought for control, to try and get his body to move, but in the end he was greeted only by a darkness that took him the moment he hit the ground.

* * *

" _Closing in for an attack run, Black Leader!"_ the K-Wing squadron commander called over the comm, " _Keep us covered as we go in!"_

Poe's hands tightened around his control throttle. Every instinct he had screamed at him to charge in and tear apart the _Acclamator-II_ killing his friends below. He was tempted to do it, too. The ship had been designed for ground suppression, and even the pirates had only been able to attach a finite number of point-defense systems. He could got for the bridge or-

" _Black Leader, do you copy?"_

Poe's eyes ran down to his instrument panel, where BB-8 typed out in blocky Aurabesh letters: _Don't be stupid. I don't wanna die with you._

Poe sighed and nodded begrudgingly, pulling on his comm, "I hear you, Silver. Follow us in and atomize the bastard."

" _With pleasure!"_

Poe gunned the throttle and pulled his craft up, followed closely by the rest of Black and Silver Squadron as they shot for the underbelly of the Assault Cruiser. The pirates had attached additional weapon systems on the underbelly of the craft, no doubt using its incredible storage capacity for additional power plants. To leverage its firepower effectively, the _Acclamator_ had to tilt down at a forty-five degree angle and party expose its underbelly.

The X-Wings soon cut a long trail of wanton destruction of Ion and Proton Torpedoes that hammered away at the Cruisers shields. This was followed by the K-Wings unleashing their own payloads of bombs, torpedoes and missiles, causing the shielding to violently convulse and even buckle the craft itself.

Quad-lasers and missile barrages soon retaliated, peppering oversized bombers they as slowly came around. Their chainguns opened up as soon as the missiles came into range, ripping them apart desperately as they arched up like the hand of a clock. Above them, Black Squadron came down counter-clockwise, hitting the Cruiser with another onslaught of munitions before the K-Wings returned to finish the job. After another run, the shields crackled out in a mass eruption.

"Alright boys and girls, pour it in!" Poe commed as the squadrons did just that. Even the _Acclamator-II's_ impressive hull plating couldn't survive consecutive attacks, and was soon being torn apart from a series of micro-explosions. Entire decks were exposed, venting atmo and personnel as heat and power sensors indicated the ships' subsystems were failing and fires were consuming whole parts of the ship.

A moment later, the ship was pulled into the planet's atmosphere; its damaged engines struggled to keep it afloat. All this did unfortunately was push the cruiser into an even steeper angle.

" _Silver to Black Leader, me and my boys are going to make another run on the engines. See if we can't push it into a burn-out,"_ the bomber commander reported as they took off after the dying craft.

"Acknowledged, Silver. We'll-" suddenly his senses screamed seconds before his ship alarms did. He whipped his head around to see squadrons of Vulture Droids coming for them. Rather than running, the daredevil pilots whipped their craft around and gunned their afterburners, hurtling them into the enemy formation as they opened up with their laser cannons and canister missiles.

Shields flared as crimson and debris flew, the two sides ripping into the other like ragged wolves fighting over a kill. Subconsciously, Poe's eyes ran up to the deep visual display, seeing that the Old Man were throttling Sydow's forces into a tightening perimeter. The thought of the New Republic's ship superiority even when badly outnumbered died as soon as it was born when Poe realized they were now coming in range of the pirate capital ships. Alarms soon rang out as lock-on warnings and energy signatures ran across his channel.

Individually, turbolasers wouldn't do much against nimbler snub fighters, but caught in a deadly close in fight with the droid fighters. That much was proven as crimson bolts tore across the vacuum and ripped into the droid fighters chasing them. Those caught in the initial blasts were vaporized, but the others were collectively turned into thousands of super-sonic fragments.

BB-8 reporting shields dropping 15% and then to 9% as the fragments tore into his fighter. Looking over his shoulder, Poe saw the rest of the squadron wasn't doing any better. Lu'lu's starboard engines caught fire, an S-foil was ripped from Snap's stern, and Deliah's fuselage was turned into a wragged pincushion.

" _Black Leader!"_ her desperate voice rang out before an explosion rocked ahead and her X-Wing was sent tailspinning, falling apart as it did. Poe's heart raced when he saw her cockpit floating in broken pieces. Poe hit his afterburners again, using his remaining shields to smash his way through the droids in his way as he struggled to catch up with the crippled X-Wing.

" _Black Two, talk to me! Come in!"_

There was no response. Poe pulled on his targeting computer to fire a toe-cabal, but the debris made it impossible to form a lock. Desperation filled his mind as his shields went dead from incoming fire. He could feel the same desperation from his pilots, fighting desperate to stay alive amidst the melee.

' _Feel?'_ He suddenly caught himself. All the stories his mother and the Old Man had talked about came back in perfect clarity, and his browed creased as he understood what he needed to do. He put aside the computer and focused his mind on the fighter ahead, now just a body with no wings.

In that moment, the fighter stopped moving as everything else muted away into the background. He held it in his mind, seeing all the calculations coming in nano-seconds, his hands wrapping around his joystick, and he fired. A split second later, the tow-cabal blasted away with an exhaust of compressed oxygen and slammed into Deliah's fuselage.

"BB-8, reverse thrusters hard, now!" and soon his X-Wing began pulling hard on Deliah's, correcting its momentum and reeling it in. A laser bolt struck him across the bow and everything went whirling red. He looked to his side and could now see smoke trailing out of Engine 3. More laser blasts tore holes in his armor plating as the droids closed in all around him.

They didn't finish the job though as an arching trail of munitions suddenly tore them to pieces. Poe looked up and saw massive k-shaped forms zoom overhead, their fuselage guns ripping apart the enemy below as their thick armor soaked up the damaged. A boisterous voice came on the line, " _Hang on, Cowboys! We got you covered!"_

Poe didn't wait for an invitation, using his remaining engine power to yank Deliah's crippled craft to him. It was then that he saw her still strapped in her cockpit, and soon after felt a heartbeat.

"Silver Leader, I need an immediate pick-up," he commed, "one of my pilots-"

" _I see her, Black Leader. Stand by, I'm on my way. Silver 2 and 3, keep the front covered."_

" _Black Leader,"_ Lu'lu's voice came on the line, " _we're gettin' our tuckuses kicked out here! I'm losing lateral power in two of my engines, and my weapon systems are dead!"_

Poe nodded. There was no way they could make it through the enemy blockade at this point, not even with the K-Wing's bravely acting as big laser magnets. No, there was only one place left to go. "Acknowledged. Everyone rally on me. We're gonna make a break for the planet. Silver Leader-"

" _Almost got her, stand by."_ Ahead, he could see the K-Wing's aft-doors open as crew members attached cabal lines to Deliah and began pulling her up. As soon as they were clear, the combined squadron raced for the world below, the Vulture Droids hot on their tails

* * *

At first, there was nothing but a chilled darkness that slowly broke to gray. For a long moment, Kylo Ren couldn't understand what it was. Everything felt cold to the touch, and even moving felt like he was submerged or being bound by heavy weights. He tried to clear his mind, but he found the cobwebs too strong there. What had happened?

He heard a noise. It was distant, like a voice screaming from miles away. No, it wasn't screaming. He swore it sounded like a drum, and he forced himself to turn his head. The effort was lethargic, and that helpless feeling enraged him. He would not be caught helpless again, not after-

Something fell on his helmet, stones he realized after a moment, and he realized his visor cracked on the right side of his vision. "Ah hell," he groaned with a strained whisper, "I just got this thing fixed."

Everything else started to come in then. The drumming sound was an alarm somewhere off in the distance, and he noticed a pale light creeping through somewhere ahead. The damp coldness was identified as wet concrete, and turning his head revealed a burst pipe spurting water on him.

He became aware that he was kneeling, his arms subconsciously locked to his side with open palms pointed up. When he looked up, he saw the stone ceiling was being held precariously in position just a few inches short of crushing them… them? He looked around, realizing that the others, including the enemy, were all lying prone and unconscious.

That observation brought with it the return of a throbbing pain in his arms and mind. He looked up again, wondering just how long he'd been holding this damn ceiling up? It didn't matter. All that did was that he would not die here, not certainly to this kriffing rock. He forced his agonized brain to focus, reminding himself that size didn't matter. There was the Force, and only the Force.

"Yeah right," he grumbled, tapping into another lesson he'd learned. Pain is strength, anger a raging fire to be harnessed. He focused on this, using that flame burning in him to add to his might and soon he felt the stone starting to move.

"I will not die here," he cursed, his voice growing louder as he did, "I will not die here!"

An inch, a foot, a yard. The stone scraped against the wall as it rose, loose debris falling in the process. Ahead, he saw the light growing larger and larger, and hope stirred in him. He heard a groan to his side, and Eighty was the first to comment in dumbfounded awe and horror, "Sweet Solstice. How long you been holding that damn thing up?"

"A while," he groaned, shifting his arms to a more balanced position.

"We've been out almost five minutes," Ones added in disbelief.

"I learned from the best," he gritted his teeth, slowly flexing his arms up like he was holding a deadweight, "move towards the hole."

"I don't think so," the modulated voice was emphasized by the cocking of a gunhammer. Kylo didn't need to look down to know who had him at gunpoint. He could sense his mind, and others starting to stir. He also sensed the Commandos pulling their weapons up, but he knew they wouldn't be able to stop him from taking an explosive bolt to the chest.

"Shoot me, we all die," Kylo said in the gloom, shifting the stone to a more comfortable position. He noticed another problem: more and more loose stones falling even when he'd stopped moving. How much longer was the ceiling going to stay in one piece?

"I'll gladly make that trade," the Paladin replied, "if it means putting you down, Sith."

Kylo craned his head down to look at him blankly, "If you meant that, I'd already be dead by now. Consider your men-"

"Don't," he replied, strangely without malice, "don't you dare, not after what you and your ilk brought on us."

"Then shoot me."

The Paladin considered it for a long moment, his fingers tightening in anticipation. Then he released it, his other hand going up to his ear. There was confusion in his mind, then begrudging acknowledgement. He holstered his sidearm. "The boss wants to talk."

"Of course he does," Kylo replied, feeling the Commandos looking at him strangely, "Troopers, the hole. Pull it open, and hurry! I don't know how much longer I can hold this."

The remaining Paladins eyed him with a suspicion beyond merely loathing him. ' _He didn't tell them,'_ he thought as he slowly started to back through the largening hole before stepping through. As he did, they quickly found the hole he'd gotten in through and dropped down.

The moment he was out, the ceiling caved in; much to the thankful applause from his body. The strain dropped him to his knees, feeling every fiber and muscle torn, burning. He focused his mind beyond the pain to something brighter, a moment of sweet realization he treasured forever; wrapping his arms around himself as he harness the energy within to soothe his wounds.

A full recovery would take hours, but a minute felt good enough. Time wouldn't allow for anything else as the Temple fell apart around them. They moved quickly, dodging falling stones and creeping through hallways of dead and dying men. They all looked at him with scorn, and he wondered just how long their discipline was going to last.

A minute of nostalgic ghosts and daymares followed. He pushed them aside; he wasn't here for them and he'd made peace with what he'd done to get to this point.

 _Have you, Apprentice?_

He froze. The voice was familiar as it was deadly impossible. What if it wasn't though? What if she…? He shook his head. A trick of the temple, nothing more. He pressed on with the others close to his heel until they reach what he recognized to be their secure data storage bunker. He'd counted on that, of course. Otherwise what they'd come here for would've been fried too.

A team of heavily armed men appeared, their blasters held at the ready droids and commandos tensed, but Kylo bade them to stand ready. He stepped forward to address the pointman, "Well?"

"Just you," he growled, "any funny business, and y'all ain't leaving here alive."

"The same goes for you," he replied as he brushed past them to enter the hallway ahead. The blastdoor closed behind him and the one ahead opened with a deliberate slowness. He approached carefully with unignited saber at the ready, his sense stretching into the room. He could feel one presence there, but there was something odd about the room. It didn't feel right, but he didn't know why.

"So, I take it that you're Kylo Ren," a voice called. Kylo entered the dataroom to find the silver-haired spy master standing in front of a desk, smoking away at his pipe. His sidearm was still in it holster.

"Let's not stand ceremony here, Master Shrike. I'd be disappointed if you hadn't guessed who I am yet."

Jacen's hard face creasing as he grinned sardonically at him, "Sure, kiddo. Explain yourself."

"I'm here for the map Dameron took from Lor San. Hand it over."

"Or what? You'll skewer me like you did the professor?"

Kylo's hand instinctively tightened around his saber, "His death was unavoidable. At least it was quick."

"Really? Ha!" he pointed his pipe at him, "Y'know he thought very fondly of you when you were a little ozik-faced brat. Sure, you were a pain in the tuckus, but you at least had an opinion. And look at you now, playing at being Vader."

Kylo was about to rise to the bait, but he stopped himself. "I'm not here for a lecture."

"But you're going to get one!" Jacen snapped, coming within striking distance as he pointed an accusing finger at him, "You had a job to do: deliver us the enemy! Instead, you went against everything your master taught you! Everything your parents suffered for! You joined 'em, and you led 'em here! So, answer my damn question, kiddo. Explain yourself."

"Oh, I **am** completing my mission, Master Shrike. But I have one of my own now."

"What the hell's that mean?"

"Damask is not a trusting man. But this will get his attention, and a personal audience."

True horror dawned on Jacen's face at that cryptic revelation. "That wasn't your mission, boy. What, you trying to one-up your aunt now?"

"No, just doing what needs to be done."

"How? By betraying us?"

"The Sith were coming anyway. I gave you all a way to escape. Do you think anyone else would've?"

"Tell that to the dead buried beneath this Temple, kiddo."

"And that would've been avoided if you'd taken the High Marshal's offer."

Jacen laughed at that. "You really think we'd just sit back and let you tear the galaxy a new one? I took you for many things, but stupid wasn't one of 'em."

"And how has the New Republic repaid you for your loyalty, hmm? At the first opportunity, the Chancellor labled you terrorists. Never once did he consider that his 'good friend' Hux was behind everything, or that my mother was right. No, he just wanted the excuse."

He shook his head at the irony of it, "You are their greatest defenders, and they see you as the enemy, even when the Old Empire prepares to make its move. That is the rotten New Republic you defend, Master Shrike. A people of self-interested betrayers and apathetic fools."

"It ain't ever been about the ones who hold the crown, but the ones who live under it. Maybe if you'd paid attention to Lor San, you would've learned that," he emphasized his point by jutting a finger into his chest, "So tell me something, you really want trillions to suffer just because you've got a score to settle with the schmucks on Chandrila?"

"No, but I don't see any other alternative. It's only in the face of horror that people find their nobler selves. The Empire learned that with Alderaan, and the New Republic will learn the same with this war."

Jacen shook his head at him in a mixture of frustration and dismay, "I made a mistake letting you go. I thought you would see through all the crap and stay the course. That you wouldn't get twisted in the end. Guess I was wrong."

"If that's how you want to view it. Personally, you were right, and I hope by the end of this you see it that way."

"Who says there'll be an end? I called you here because I wanted to be wrong. That your dad and your girl were right about you. But I guess everyone's bound to be a sucker at least once."

"I suppose we're all used to disappointment. Now, give me the map."

"Take him."

It was then that Kylo Ren understood what he'd felt. He and Shrike weren't alone, but it was only in the moments of them moving that he finally felt them. They were a splinter in the mind's eye; an imperceptible trick that not even the most advanced cloaking fields could match. In the seconds before they attacked, Kylo recognized them as only one possible thing: Defelian Wraiths.

Steel prongs fired from either side of him faster than even he could react, his senses detecting the conducting cables attached to them. He tried to push them away, but they slammed into his arms painfully before he could even unclench his fists. The electrical discharge came a second later, and it took all his effort not to succumb to the sudden blackness as his body spasmed from the volts being pumped into him.

He fell to his knees, the electricity tearing into him seeming to increase in voltage. He swore he actually see his damn bones silhouetting before him, but he didn't know if that was just a trick of his pain-raddled mind. He realized then that he was screaming, and someone was talking.

"...would kill normal..." he made out, "but you're tough... take it, till you drop… Sorry. Ramp it up."

Now he could smell something burning. He couldn't make out what, but he could guess. Another minute, another second and he would either fall or die. Either, he would fail in his mission. No, he wouldn't. Afterall, what was pain to a Sith than life to a Jedi?

He focused inward, calling upon the teachings of his two masters in one. The pain soon gave him clarity, his anger strength, his rage power. Through this, he forced his hands together as he began to redirect the harmful electricity from his body to the space between his hands. He held the energy there, growing it more and more within the span of seconds.

Jacen saw it first, going for his sidearm as he called for the Wraiths to do something he couldn't make out. He focused on the moments that had wounded him, put him on this path; the death and betrayal leading to a final scream of hatred before his hands lashed out with a bright blue flash.

Everything was sent flying in smoke, and even the ground he stood upon was blackened with the heat. He rose despite the weakness plaguing him, his crossguard ignited as he saw his opponents in turn. The shadows were made flesh.

"There you are," he smirked behind the mask. Already they were trying to absorb the rooms light to flicker back into their transparent form, but there was no hiding from the Lord of Ren, now that he saw them as they truly were. They were like wolves forced upright, all claws and colorful fur with massive arms that ran almost the lengths of their bodies.

With these, they propelled themselves off the ground in lunges much like orangutans, their forms shimmering between visible and not as they attempted to close the distance. Kylo Ren launched a telekinetic push at the first, and as expected it bonded over the attack. As it did however, he stamped his foot into the stone floor with such force that he threw up several loose fragments. These were quickly turned into missiles, and he struck the Wraith with pinpoint accuracy that quickly immobilized him.

Sensing the second Wraith coming behind him, he hurled his unconcious comrade at him. Instead of bounding over him like he'd expected, the Wraith dove beneath the projectile and closed it with impossible speed. Its four sets of claws raked him across his armored body, the talons scraping against the duraplast with terrible shrieks.

It however was just noise, and Kylo Ren took the concussive blow in stride. When it had finished its attack vector and attempted to leap away, he retaliated. Like a thermohammer, his fist slammed into the beast's mongrel skull and pounded it straight into the floor, a resounding _crack_ leaving it a fractured sprawl.

The Lord of Ren however had no time to gloat as he sensed Shrike fire his handgun. He moved to the side, dodging shots that screamed past his head and exploded behind him. Before he could retaliate however, a desk was kicked at him and knocked him to the floor. He felt the shards and splinters tear into his arms and legs as the desk shattered from the microexplosions, but he pressed past this as he hurled the debris at his opponent.

The remnants of the desk threw the old man into the wall, Kylo Ren closing the distance and slashing his raised pistol in two. Jacen however was not cowed, and with a speed that belied his age lashed out with a powerful left hook. Metal impacted metal as his cybernetic hand dented Kylo's helm, followed by a swift kick to the small of his back that slammed him against the wall.

The Lord of Ren heard the sound of a knife being drawn from its sheath. He swiftly turned and trapped Jacen's attacking arm as it came for his armpit. He pulled the arm around, blocking and trapping a left jab, and then used both arms as leverage to slam his helmet against the older man's skull.

The resounding crack stunned him, allowing Kylo to disarm the blade hand and then take him by the throat. Jacen's feet left the ground as he held him there, Kylo's fingers tightening around his trachea as he growled, "Now, where is the map?"

"No."

Kylo's grip tightened and the man's face started to swell up. However, his eyes remained firm, and Kylo slowly brought up his other hand with the intention to start probing his mind. Jacen shot him a bloody smile.

"Go ahead," he choked, "try. You won't break me in time."

Kylo Ren increased his pressure on his throat, his eyes beginning to bulge from their sockets. As he did this, he watched them for the unavoidable tell that occurs in the desperation of near death: the split-second look that would tell him what he needed. It took close to a minute for it happen, and by that point blood was pooling from his pores. Another few seconds, a few more pounds of pressure and the man would be dead. Kylo released the pressure just slightly, and it happened. If he hadn't been actively looking for it, he would've missed it. The eyes very briefly looked past him at the far wall before closing again.

"Thank you," Kylo said, slamming his head against the wall before crossing the room to where his eyes had looked. It took only a moment to sense the secret safe buried there, another to rip it away, and then a handful to detect the contingency device at the back meant to explode if it was forcefully opened.

Oddly, he smirked at the sight as it brought up an old memory. It had been a crime-boss' safe then, and Rey had taken a good few minutes to turn it off with a technometery application. It marveled him that she had the diligence and patience for it, but then again he was never one for waiting. He simply pierced the saber through the metal, opened a hole and yanked the device free. Satisfied, he ripped away the door and was greeted by the prize.

'So many dead over this little data-disk,' he thought grimly, but it was worth it in the end. This was the final step in his journey, and soon his destiny would be fulfilled. He however had other things he needed to attend to first.

He turned to where he'd come in, taking several seconds to concentrate his mental might into one powerful telekinetic blast. The walls caved in, and soon crashed upon the guards too engaged in battle with the commandos to escape. Through the smoke and dust, the others emerged to greet him.

"Do you have it?" Ones asked. He nodded, handing her the data-disk before brushing past them.

"Follow the main route here down to the sewer line. It will lead you out of the temple. From there, you can contact the ship for pickup."

"You're not coming?" Eighty asked.

"I have a Jedi to hunt."

* * *

 **A note from the Authors:**

* * *

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Squasher here. Same story as before, we are currently still writing Chapter 42. While we will work to get our backlog back by October 13th, we may delay the release of certain chapters if we can't. I will update if this is the case. For that reason, no preview will be posted this time. We'd also like to thank Terminator57, and Draconic for their reviews.


	44. Chapter 37 - From the Ashes

**Chapter 42 - From the Ashes**

* * *

 **Takodana**

 **The Jedi Temple**

* * *

When Rey finally woke from her unconscious slumber, she wasn't sure if she was alive or dead. The world was no longer the vibrant bastion of life and green, but one of fires, screams and ashes. Everything was gray, coated in a thick film of dust and oily powder falling like corrupted snow. It was hard to breathe, it was hard to think. Everywhere was smoke, sometimes so dense she couldn't even see the hands in front of her.

She rose from her bed of embers, her body caked in the matter as she began to aimlessly wander. She called out, her voice echoing in void. She was quickly answered by screams in the distance, and she tried to follow them. Tried to reach out and sense the world around her to find something, anything. When she did, the world's anguish drove her to her knees and she had to shut it out.

All life was connected by the Force, even entire worlds… and she had never felt it in such pain. She tried to think back to what had happened, but it hurt too damn much. She gagged at the rampant filth in the air, and her despair turned to pure sorrow when she saw them. The luminescent, weeping forms of transparent ghosts; wailing at the realization of death.

They were recent, too. Many were pirates, rangers and soldiers. But she saw others there, others from long ago that too added to the death song of a planet in utter agony.

"Am I dead?" she choked. No, if she were dead, then her parents would be here. That however meant she was in potential danger, not just from the living but from the deceased. Everywhere else, they wouldn't be able to touch her. But on this nexus world where the lines were blurred, and a terrible travesty left its spirits in a state of sombered frenzy?

She carefully turned around and went the other way, stumbling over craters and jagged pieces of things she couldn't see. It was then that she realized she didn't have her lightsaber. She cursed her monumental stupidity, and slowly attempted to retrace her steps. Her mind was swimming though as she took in one ragged breath after the other, staggering and tripping over the broken, burned and gone.

She didn't realize the enemy was ahead until she almost ran right into them. She couldn't make them out at first, just dark silhouettes with the distinct shapes of rebreather masks. Then she saw their stained crimson uniforms and she threw herself behind cover. There were at least a dozen of them, maybe more. Certainly more than she could hope to take on without her weapon, and they were between her and it.

She watched them milling about, turning over things in the ruins. Looking for survivors, maybe? Either way, they weren't going away anytime soon. She slumped down into a shallow ditch, now practically a gray snowman. She reached her mind out again, trying desperately to reach anyone. However, the screams of the world chased her away again, and she couldn't even feel the minds less than twenty feet from her. Helpless.

An arm suddenly shifted in the ash beside her and she backed away in a hurry, getting ready to fight or fly. The arm, however, stopped moving. When she uncovered it completely, she found it belonged to a Ranger. He was looking at her through the lenses of his mask; he grabbed her wrist, pulling desperately as he broke into a horrible coughing fit. She shook her head and put a finger to her lips to show they were not alone. Only then she saw that he was holding his guts in with a rucksack.

A shiver of horror ran down her spine. There was so much blood staining the ash layered mud. His feverish eyes were on her, pain and desperation dancing behind the lenses. She knew what he wanted her to do but she didn't know if she could do it. She wasn't a K'kruhk or Shaak Ti. She wasn't even remotely on the same level as her own master. But she had to try.

"Okay," she whispered, "okay, I'll help you. But I need to remove the bag. It's gonna hurt. I need you to stay quiet. Can you do that?"

He nodded, eyes hardening. She took a deep breath, steadying herself… then she removed the bag. Blood immediately began to seep from the wound. Rey placed both hands upon the injury, focusing and forcing life energy to a focal point there. A blue radiance began to take shape, and slowly the edges of the lacerational burn started to regenerate. Cell by cell, flesh began to grow and stitch back together.

Sweat quickly soaked Rey's clothes, her head pounding like a tribal drum as she struggled to keep her focus, to keep the Force flowing into the wound. The Ranger's hand clamped on her leg, fingers digging as he desperately bit back his scream. She let him. She couldn't imagine the utter pain he was in and it was a testament that he hadn't passed out yet.

An inch of new fiber, muscle, fat and then skin crew on the outskirts of the wound. She poured more of the Force into it, gritting her teeth as her own body began to spasm from overexertion.

"Stay… focused!" she hissed at herself. Her vision was swimming, and her stomach was cramping. Pain stabbed deep into her brain, her lungs and her heart. The latter began to beat like an overdriven engine as a creeping darkness marched from the corners of her eyes.

"No… no!" The energy was ebbing away from her, slipping out of her blue aura spluttered in and out of existence as a wave of nausea hit her. She was weak, and soon everything was just… cold. She didn't even realize she'd fainted until warm blood seeped through the clothes on her chest.

She pushed herself back up, and that effort almost pushed her over the edge again. The Ranger's wound was still open, still oozing blood, and even without her tapping into the Force she knew he didn't have much longer to live. That gave her the right kick she needed, and she pressed her hands together, shutting out everything but the wound before her. Just when the flickering light began to return, the Ranger grabbed her by the arm and shook his head at her.

She didn't want it to be, but she knew he was right. Doing this much had physically drained her to the point of passing out, and going further might very well kill her. She berated herself silently for that failure. So good with fixing machines, but people-

"Hhnn," he groaned, and tore the mask from his face with a shaking hand. The sight of it made her heart sink further. He was young, too young to die like this in this Force-forsaken blasthole. But there was no fear in his eyes, not even anger at her.

"I am one with the Force," he whispered, so softly that she had to read his lips, "and the Force… is with… me. I shall… know-" He shuddered and hacked up blood. She put what little energy she had left to soothe his pain. He tried again to take up the prayer, but it died in his mouth. That was more painful to see than even the pain he was in.

"I shall know no fear, for the Force shall guide me," she replied, squeezing his limp hand "There is no death, there is only the Force. I am one with the Force, and-"

"The Force… shall keep… me."

His eyes found the sky above, and they did not move. For a long moment, she merely stared at the dead boy. He shouldn't have been here, shouldn't have _died_ here. She shook her head at the contradiction, though. He was no older than her when she took up the cause. Why shouldn't he?

Rey grimaced. She was a Jedi though… but he wasn't much different. Perhaps he wasn't gifted with the Force, but he had the same desire to protect the galaxy and its peoples from those who worship evil's might. And unlike so many others, he acted upon his desire. He chose to fight rather than to cower.

"But it's not right!" she cursed softly, fists balling up. Something shifted against her, and she instinctively grabbed it. He'd pushed his mask into her chest.

"Oi! You down there! Turn around slowly!"

When she did, she sent him flying with a single telekinetic push.

"Jaxtin!" someone screamed ahead, and she heard their footfalls coming her way. She donned the rebreather, taking in the clean air as she rose from the pit to face her attackers.

"Looking for me?" she snarled out at them, "Here I am."

"You! Take her down!"

A cascade of bolts tore through the smoke and ash. Rey dove behind a wall, tearing up clouds soil to block the incoming projectiles as she moved. The Corsairs closed in on all sides, pouring marching fire against the ancient stone she cowered behind. As they got closer, Rey mentally plucked stones up and began hurling them at the pirates, but her aim was sporadic at best without her precognitive sight.

Only a few screams reported successful hits, but that wasn't her intention. She'd targeted the stragglers on the wings, causing the formation to bunch together to avoid being hit. Ahead, she heard the sounds of men tripping over debris sticking out of the ground, and she calculated the distance in her head. Satisfied, she made her move.

She threw up a torrent of soil and ash to her left to draw their fire. She then stepped out to her right, taking in the heavily armed Corsairs at a glance. As she suspected, they were laden down with explosives and gas canisters, no doubt meant for her. Before they could even react, she stretched her hands and began to systematically arm them.

One by one, detonators, grenades and canisters all began to whine and beep the seconds from detonation. With thunderous applause, men exploded in terrible flashes of white and green. Some were instantly incinerated by the blasts, others ripped limb from limb into tenderized pieces. The worst burned alive when their incendiary devices detonated, or choked from their own poisons.

Three however managed to cut their belts away and tossed them at the Jedi. She held her hand out, catching them in midair and mentally holding their arming primers in place. As the bombs dangled before the Corsairs, Rey addressed them coldly like a snake playing with a rat.

"You could've run. You could've left this world in peace. But instead, you destroyed my home, started killing my people, and for what? A bounty? A paycheck!?" she shook her head at them, her fingers toying with the floating web-belts, "Well, maybe it's time you get what's owed to you."

Horror dawned on their faces and they ran for all they were worth. She let them get so far, then she hurled the explosives at them. Their screams of panic were cut short from the detonation, and not a trace of them was left.

She let out a weary sigh, a pang of guilt and rage plaguing her in that moment. A part of her believed they deserved it; that they'd signed their death warrants long ago. Another however condemned her for it. This wasn't justice, but petty, malicious slaughter. No different than the Sith she fought!

"I am not one of them!" she shouted to the world around her, "I am no Sith!"

She heard the report of a plasma ignition and she ducked. A crimson bolt struck where her head was a moment before; followed by more as she ducked for cover. She chanced a look, seeing crimson outlines pouring down the hill like frenzied Bao Ants. There were too many for her to take on in the open like this, but in the forest ahead she might have a chance.

With a desperate pace, she ran. The pirates followed in hot pursuit.

* * *

"Damn you, Sydow!" Phasma cursed, "Hevy, apply pressure-good, thank you. Hold on, Ones, we'll get you out of here."

Even as she said that, her words turned to ash her mouth. Even with a minute's warning, there had been nowhere to take cover in the flat plains they'd found themselves pinned down in. Hell, the only reason they hadn't been completely vaporized by the orbital barrage or torn to pieces by the resulting debris shrapnel was because a building fell on top of them, and they were damn lucky they weren't crushed in the process.

So many others weren't though, and their burnt remains littered the landscape. Ones had pushed Twenty-Three to safety, and had been caught in an explosion of superheated gases for her trouble. Her arm was gone, and most of her suit had been outright melted into the skin.

"You stupid pigsy," Twenty-Three cursed, "it was supposed to be me, damn it. Me!"

She craned her head over painfully, the right side of her face burnt like an overdone nerf steak. Still, she managed a rueful smile as she croaked "Glory... hound." She shot him a vulgar gesture that made him laugh despite the situation.

"Cap'n," the corpsman said, "she doesn't have long, even with the bacta strips. We need to get her into a hyperbaric chamber, and fast."

"And that goes double for most of the boys," CPO Mako grumbled, "but the LZ's several klicks in the opposite direction, and popping smoke here's a good way to attract the neighborhood."

A voice crackled in Phasma's ear and she held up a hand. "This is Phasma, go ahead."

" _Mum, this Eighty. We have the package. We've called in for dustoff. What's your location?"_

'They're crazy enough to land here?' she thought before she responded, "Understood, Eighty. Proceed to Aurek-Three-Besh, and make it a squadron. We have multiple wounded, including Ones."

There was a long pause before he acknowledged, " _There's one other thing, Mum. Lord Kylo's gone after the Jedi. We have no idea where he is."_

"That's not our problem, trooper. If he wants to go chasing her, that's fine. We have what we came for. Meet us here when you can. Out."

"Mum… you're suggesting leaving him here?" Twenty-Three asked.

"I'm sure he'll find another way off, especially if he thinks chasing the girl is better than helping us."

"That's cold," Mako remarked, "we Corsairs never leave our own."

"Neither do we Stormtroopers. But Lord Kylo isn't one of us. His own goals make that very plain."

There was a sudden burst of comm traffic. " _This is Raider 3-1! The Jedi's taken out 2-3! We're movin' to intercept!"_

"Corsairs, disengage!" Mako bellowed into his mike, "Forget about the Jedi, we are buggin' out!"

" _To hell with that! We ain't letting her get off that easy! Movin' to intercept, out!"_

"Damn them," Mako cursed before turning to Hevy and his team, "make sure the idiots don't get themselves killed."

"Rogo 'Sides, I got an inklin' to meet up with her again. Got a question for her."

"Are your men always this way, Chief?" Phasma asked diplomatically as they took off.

"The boys take losses personally. I know you understand that."

" _This is Raider 2-1! We are under attack from a Jedi! He's cuttin' through us! Help!"_

"He?!" Mako growled, "What do you mean 'he?' There's only one and it's a woman!"

" _Tell that to this guy! There's two-"_ the unmistakable report of a lightsaber silenced the comm, and Twenty-Three shook his head.

"Now there's two of them. This is really starting to get out of hand. Mum… Mum, are you okay?"

Phasma shook her head. It could only mean one thing and by extension, one person. So much for priorities. "Trooper, Chief Mako, keep the area clear. If I'm not back in ten, leave."

She took off running into the smog, leaving the protests behind to the swirling mists. It didn't take long to find the bodies, marked with plasma lacerations and even blaster wounds. Further ahead, there were screams, blaster reports… and a lightsaber. Her hands tightened around her blaster as the cyan blade appeared in the smog, followed by a flash of sparks and a scream.

As it disappeared, she brought her weapon up and advanced at a trot. The bodies were becoming more cluttered, more desperate. Clean, efficient kills turned into messy dismemberments with burns marking the walls all around. She rounded a corner, and there he was.

With unnatural speed, he sliced a pirate's weapon arm off followed by his head. He grabbed the body and used it as cover to close the distance with the second and last. He threw the body at him, and skewered them both with a single powerful thrust… just like she taught him. He rounded then, his blaster raised on her and he stopped short. "Captain?"

"FN- 2187," she replied sadly, keeping her weapon trained on him. The sight of one of her troopers wearing the armored-fatigues of the enemy made her blood run cold.

He craned his head curiously, his weapons at his side, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for you," she replied, bringing her weapon to hip level, "drop that relic. You're coming home with me."

Her dark eyes hardened as he growled, "No."

She stiffened at the response, but her tone remained firm. "Do I need to make it an order, Trooper?"

"You may, but I will disobey. I'm not a Stormtrooper anymore."

"Stop it!" she snapped, descending into the remains of the assembly as she jutted a finger at him, "You are one of **my** Troopers! Mine! I raised you, I trained you, I gave you purpose! And I will not let some Jedi harlot disabuse you of that fact!"

"You did, mum," he nodded, "I have not forgotten. But I am not going with you. I won't."

"Why?" she exasperated, stepping closer to him, "What did she show you that made you turn your back on your family?"

" **She** had nothing to with it," he snapped, "I made my decision long before I even met her. And even now, all she has done is offer me training and insight. The truth of things."

"What truth?" Phasma scoffed.

"That my brothers and I are little more than slaves who die for the whims of the Sith. That we are fighting a war we did not choose and cannot win. That the First Order is nothing more than an extension of Palpatine's madness."

"The First Order had nothing to do with Palpatine!" she spat, "You were taught this, remember? We may seek to restore the Old Empire, but we do so for the good of the galaxy! To free it of corruption and chaos, not for the ambition of **one** man! We are not Palpatine's empire!"

"Really?" he shook his head at her, "You claim that, and yet we answer to the Sith. We follow their ambitions and designs to our graves."

"We do not answer to answer to Sith. The Knights of Ren do not command us-"

"Yes, they do. Perhaps not with directness of Darth Vader, but they command us. The High Marshal himself is their master and **he** commands us."

"Is that what the Jedi told you? That the High Marshal is just another Palpatine? Trooper, without Hego Damask's vision, we would be little better than the Remnants! A squabbling mass of selfish children! He united us for the purpose of bringing order to a corrupt galaxy."

"Just as he did with the Old Republic?"

"What are you getting at?" she scrutinized, watching his eyes as he elaborated:

"Damask is not another Palpatine because he is something far worse. He is the man who created Palpatine. He set in motion the fall of the Old Republic, the Clones Wars and the rise of the Empire. All Palpatine did was follow his design… right after he killed him."

He believed this. There was no trickery there, no hint of some mental magic. He truly, fundamentally believed what he had just said. He jutted his disignited saber at her.

"What you fail to understand, Captain, is that we are just another generation of puppets to ambitions Sith. No different than the old Empires of millennia ago, and certainly no different than Palpatine's."

She heard this argument before. The words were different, the men were different, but the meaning was the same. Only it was worse. There was no madness or delusions of grandeur in her Troopers eyes. There was only conviction there, and the dangerous kind at that.

"And will you do with this 'truth' of yours?" she asked with a hollow whisper.

"Give it to the rest of my brothers and sisters. To give them the right to choose their own path, as I have. To give them freedom."

"Freedom?" she shook her head at that, "You merely traded the Corps for the Jedi and the government they serve. You after all carry one of their weapons, killing on their behalf. And this 'truth' of yours? All it will do spill the blood of your siblings."

"No revolution is bloodless, Captain. And I do not serve the Jedi or the New Republic. I choose to fight alongside them because they believe in what I believe. I chose to fight in this battle. I was not ordered to. I **chose.** "

"Revolution? Do you even hear yourself?" she took another frantic step forward, her weapon falling to her side, "You promote the idea of turning your family against itself, and you call it revolution? I know you cannot believe that."

"But I do-"

"No, you don't!" she snapped, "How do I know this? Because in every engagement that pitted you against your family, you always refused to kill them. You maim, you wound, but you never kill! That is why I knew you weren't fully gone. But this? This is madness!"

"Freeing them from an unwinnable war is madness? Freeing them from a system that forces them to be soldiers without the choice to be anything else? I don't want to kill any of them, Captain. I want to save them."

"By starting a revolt that will get them killed?"

"Against the Sith and the High Marshal? Yes! It's the only way for them to be free!"

"And what would you do with this 'freedom?' Have you honestly thought about that? You and the rest of **my** children are not just soldiers, but warriors! Fighting is what we do best, but without purpose, without a clear code to guide us, we become nothing more than barbarians."

"The Mandalorians and the Aquilians seem to have a good model."

"With a history of pointless genocide?"

"Is that any different than what we did at the village?" he growled, "We murdered women and children, Captain. Not enemy combatants, but civilians."

"Civilians?" she scoffed at the idea, "They chose their fate when they sided with the enemy! When they remained in that valley, when they aided them in their efforts! They chose, Eighty Seven, and they paid the price for their choice!"

"And yet it was we who attacked! We who killed anything that got in our way so that we could wage a war that will kill billions! And for what, revenge? To resurrect a dead government?"

"For the promise of a better galaxy."

"Built on a graveyard. Tell me something, mother," he stepped forth, coming face to face with her, "how is that any different than the tribe who murdered **your** first family? The barbarians who orphaned **you**? Surely, they had the same justifications as you."

Indescribable rage took hold of her, and it took everything she had to beat it back down. "Do you understand why I'm here, Trooper?"

"Yes," he nodded, "the Admiral wants me dead because of what I have become, and he has sent you to do it."

She didn't bother asking how he knew. There were certain things about the mystical powers the Knights of Ren and the Jedi wielded she would never truly understand. As she looked down at him again, her hand instinctively found the hilt of her messer.

"There was another like you once. He was brave, loyal and… and a friend. A true hero of the First Order. But like you, those who wished to destroy the dream we have spent decades building twisted him. Turned him rabid. Of course, he believed he was right. That he was saving the First Order. And for that, he betrayed and murdered his kin, turned our family against itself."

"Did you ever consider if he was right? Or did you kill him without asking, like a good little soldier?"

"I did it to protect you!" she jutted her finger into his chest for emphasis, "I made that sacrifice to protect **our** family. **My** children. Because all his 'righteousness' caused was pointless death and destruction! All for a deluded ideology that would've seen our downfall!"

"'Pointless death and destruction.' Much like the coming war with the New Republic? How many of your children will die all in the name of the Sith's goals?"

"How many people die and suffer for the New Republic's inability to act? For courting with criminals and monsters? You need not look any further than the Outer Rim for proof of that. All the 'New' Republic offers is decadence and a slow death, just like the Old one before it."

"The Old Republic lasted for twenty-five thousand years, Captain, and the New Republic now six years longer than the Empire. That is not a slow death, and what happened to Parnasos was set in motion a thousand years prior-"

"I'm not an idiot, Trooper. I know of the Reformation, and it only proves my point. The Old Republic was willing to trade strength for the facade of peace. No different than the Chancellor today."

"Which was set in motion by **you**. Just as what happened to Parnassos was set in motion by the Sith."

She scoffed in utter exasperation, "You make it sound like they're behind everything! That they are the cause of the galaxies every woe! Well, I'm sorry, but you don't need devils to create evil. It exists in everyone, and the Old Republic simply allowed its cultivation."

"You're right about that. You don't need devils to create evil. You just need people who do nothing to stop them! And do you want to know what I see? I see a good woman who does nothing because she's too afraid to admit that she was wrong, and that the truth was right in front of her the whole time."

"Eighty-Seven-"

"Finn. My name is Finn, not some serial number you gave us."

"You made them your names. Isn't that more important? Something given has no value!"

"Except the purpose you gave us? How can the great mission have value if we did not choose it? If we didn't earn it? And that is the issue right there. We are not living beings to your superiors. We're little better than intelligent droids made for the meat grinder."

He shook his head and scoffed, "Tell me, are the Colonies even real? Is there really a paradise for us at the end of our service? And even if it was, what would you do if we refused to hand over our children to become the next generation of Stormtrooper?"

Phasma's mouth was agape as she processed what Eighty-Seven just said, and the implications of it. She shook her head after a moment, her mind struggling to answer. "Even if you're right, if everything you said true, is civil war the right way? The only way?"

"No, I don't want that to happen, but I don't see any other alternative. Like you taught us, change only occurs because of force, and violence is its supreme measure. There is no other way."

In a strange way, she was proud of him. He had become the perfect warrior she predicted he'd be if given the right nudge. Unfortunately, he was on the wrong side, and he blazed with the dark fire of fanaticism. It was the same flame that had taken her two brothers from her. No, she would not allow history to repeat. Right or wrong, she would not allow it.

"I came here with orders to kill you, Eighty-Seven. But I stand here, begging you to come home. So I'm going to ask you one last time: drop the lightsaber and come with me."

"No."

Phasma's eyes hardened, her grip on the Messer tightening, "Then you have chosen the path of destruction."

His grip on the lightsaber tightened in response, "Better destruction than bondage."

She drew her blaster, setting the weapon to stun. But in a movement faster she could perceive, the cyan blade chopped it in half. As the severed half fell, her other hand swung the Messer from its sheath. Her electric coated vibration blade struck his plasma one in a dazzle of sparks that sent him reeling back.

He drew back several steps, his blade raised in a guard. "Walk away, please."

"Never," she uttered as she drew into her own stance, and charged.

* * *

They were hot on Rey's tail. Like ravenous hounds, the Pirates pursued and threw everything they had in her wake. But this was her home and defiled as it was, it still provided her all the measure she needed. Moss and vines became delaying action, logs and tree projectiles, and she always remained one step ahead of her pursuers.

Still, the pirates kept coming and she didn't mind. "Let them come. I need to go this way anyway.'

She heard and even smelled the sudden ignition of rocket boosters behind her. She didn't stop to look, instead leaping through a sycamore cluster as the jump troopers pursued. The fired away at her with rifles and light repeaters, the stench of burning wood and even cloth filling her nose as she kept moving.

Her hands gently moved to the side as she leapt, spinning in the air to meet her attackers. With a telekinetic pull, she yanked every loose object available and sent them screaming at the jump troopers. Many were felled and stunned by the incoming barrage, allowing her to grip some men by their harnesses and rip them loose.

Their falling screams echoed far behind her as she jumped the gorge, coming into a clear moss field. Suddenly, a team of the pirates came barreling in ahead of her. She dove behind a tree as they opened fire, the footfalls of the rest coming in echoing loudly.

"It's over, witch! You got nowhere to go! Come out an' we'll make it quick!"

"You lie!" she shouted back, as the tree buckled under blaster fire. She listened past that, noting the subtle crackling of their boots on the moss. 'Just a little more. Come this way. C'mon, you-'

"Oi lass, there you are!" a cheerful and all too familiar voice echoed in front of her, a rotary cannon breaching the underbrush, "I've been lookin' all over for you!"

"Oh. It's you," Rey groaned, "Hevy, right?"

"Aw, you remembered! I'm flattered!" he then gestured with his weapon and she sighed, slowly moving from her cover with her hands raised.

The other pirates leered wickly at her, "Nice work, Hevy. Y'know, now that we got you here, mebbe we won't make it quick. Mebbe we take our time an' really make you sorry fer what you-"

"Stow it, Grappa!" Hevy shouted at him, "The Chief sent me an' the boys over here to make sure you don't do anything stupid! And that's really stupid! Plus, we have standards, remember? We ain't Zhan's boys!"

"Fine, let's just shoot her and be done with it!" someone else in front of her shouted.

"Oh no," someone behind her retorted, "the lady's a good 65k alive, remember? I plan to grog me up with that kinda cred!"

"Scoutie, now yer bein' stupid! The greedy kind of stupid!"

"Oh stop being such a pansy, pansy!"

"Oh great, the soldier boy is takin' now-"

The sudden roar of the rotary cannon silenced the conversation and dropped a considerable number of burnt leaves on Rey. "Chill, or I'll record y'all down and dock each and every single one yer pay. 'Sides, I have a serious question to ask our lady Jedi here."

Now she turned to face the burly man with the big gun, "And what question is that?"

Straight faced, he asked, "What's your name?"

"Um… sorry, what?"

"You heard me. What's your name, devotchka?"

"It's Rey. Why the hell do you want to know?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Hmm, Aayla-Rey. I like the sound of that."

Rey was about to ask what the hell that meant when she saw it, or more accurately, herself. "Is that… me?"

"Ah, you like? My best work, I'd say. Not quite as good as ol' Aayla there. Clone was a real artist, that one. But still, you make her fine company."

Despite herself, Rey couldn't help but crain her head to get a better look. "It's… nice. I mean, I don't think I was ever that haughty looking but-"

"Okay, this is just ridiculous!" someone shouted behind her, "Let's cuff her and bag her already!"

When his boot made the right report, she smirked and spun around to face him, "Why don't you come and do it yourself, spacerat?"

"Oh you little-"

Rey snapped her fingers. Suddenly, the floor beneath caved in and he fell into the darkness below with a scream.

"What the-!?" another one fell with a scream, followed by another and then another.

"Oh crap, we're on a log!" Before they could do anything about it, they were now all falling to the mossy depths of a long dead and buried tree. All except for one.

Hevy looked all around him to find himself alone with the Jedi. He looked at her and then at the hole in front of him. "I take it I need to go jump through that hole?"

"Yup."

"Well der'mo," he looked sadly at the rotary cannon in his hands, "can I leave her here? I don't want her gettin' hurt."

Rey couldn't help but chuckle at the request, but she nodded.

"Thanks luv," he said gratefully as he set Aayla-Rey down, and then jumped through the hole.

"Damnit, Hevy! You landed on my leg!"

"Oh stop yer complain'. At least she didn't kill us!"

"Yeah, no. Be stuck in this hole and probably gettin' napped by the Green and Brown Boys is real better!"

"As Hevy said, Maggot," there was an audible slap from below, "stow it and stop complain'!"

Despite the horror and death the pirates had brought to her home, Rey couldn't help but chuckle at the comedy. "Pirates."

"Heard that!"

"You were meant to!"

That was when she heard it: clapping. Slow, congratulatory was a sudden feeling of cold despite the humidity. She turned very slowly and across the way was a man in black. A man with a mask.

"Impressive, most impressive. You really haven't missed a beat."

* * *

 **A note from the Authors:**

* * *

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Squasher here. Same story as before, we are currently still writing Chapter 43. While we will work to get our backlog back by October 27th, we may delay the release of certain chapters if we can't. I will update if this is the case. For that reason, no preview will be posted this time. We'd also like to thank **Terminator57** and **Transformers g-1's-Prime** for their reviews.


	45. Chapter 38 - Confrontation

**Chapter 43 - Confrontation**

* * *

 **Takodana**

 **The Jedi Temple**

* * *

It was not the first time Rey had faced the Sith in battle. Some ten years ago, her first mission as a Jedi Knight had been to stop the resurrection of an ancient Sith Lord, Marka Ragnos, by mad cultists and surviving Inquisitors. She could still feel the scars she'd earned in those terrible battles; could still remember the malignant presence of Ragnos given form. Yet despite it all, she and her fellows had conquered their evil, and they'd been barely out of their teens.

But this was different. **He** was different. The light of madness and delusions of power that had radiated from the cultists was practically nonexistent here. There was only a cold certainty. Even the very air felt chilled in his presence. She tried to reach out with the Force to get a measure of her opponent, but there was something there. Something that blocked her.

Within the vision of the Force, life and death radiated in different ways. But when she looked upon this man in black, there was nothing. It was as though she was staring into a black hole of nothingness where life and death, light and darkness existed yet did not. Not even Ragnos' spirit had felt like this.

"I can feel you peeking around here," he said, tapping a finger to the side of the helmet, "I wouldn't bother. The helm has a bit of a strange effect on things."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you want, Sith?"

"I'm here for you, Jedi," he stepped forward and she stepped back. He shook his head at her, extending his right hand out. "Don't do that. I'm not here to fight."

"Really?" she smiled thinly, gesturing to the men lying beneath them in the depths of the log, "Do you leave that for them to do? No, I don't think so. You don't seem the type."

"Well, I did just get here," he shrugged.

"Then you can leave," she gestured behind him, "and take your dogs with you. You've done enough damage here, monster."

"Monster? I'd be careful about throwing that word around, Jedi, especially to someone you've only just met."

Rey felt a flash of disappointment at that, but she didn't let it show. "So there is no one I know under that mask, then?"

"Perhaps there is," he said offhandedly, "perhaps there isn't. But this really isn't the place for that kind of question. Now, come quietly."

"Or what? You'll make me?"

"Don't be stupid. You have no weapons, no lightsaber and I think you can tell that my connection to the Force is stronger than yours. You can fight, but I'll win."

"I wouldn't know. Your helmet makes your presence a bit hazy. For all I know, you could be an absolute scrub that I'll beat in five minutes."

"Willing to bet credits on that?" she felt the challenging smile in his voice as his hand traced to the butt of his saber.

"Let's find out," and she threw his hands out to her side. In a heartbeat, she felt the polymer grips of blasters fill them. In another, she was shooting. Emerald bolts screamed across the void as in a reflex just as fast, the crossguard ignited with a loud _hiss._

Rey dove back as the bolts struck and came screaming back with the sharp pang of plasma hitting plasma. She moved and twisted her body the necessary inches, firing as she did. He slowly advanced, his saber an incomprehensible blur of crimson that sent bolts flying in every direction.

With feline grace, Rey landed on her feet and stretched her mind out; applying the necessary pressure to crack the log ahead without any hint of detection. She began her retreat then, drawing him closer and closer while she kept shooting. He took a step, then another. Then she heard the loud snap of wood breaking and smiled in the expectation of him falling away.

Only, it didn't happen. They both stopped, seeing that he was standing on nothing but air. He looked up at her, and she could feel him smirk. "Still think I'm an absolute scrub?"

"Still on the fence on that," and she somersaulted into the air, sending a powerful telekinetic strike into the log itself. The wood crumbled with an echoing explosion, but the Sith was in the air first. In a blur of movement, he threw himself at her and she had twist out of the way to avoid his blade.

As she righted and came down, she smelled the stench of burning hair and felt a slight sting just over her left ear. Ahead, the Sith came down with the flapping of his cloak, holding a bundle of her hair between his fingers. "Still on the fence, Jedi?"

"Oh shut up and die," she cursed as she bolted to her left with a single concentrated burst of speed, zipping through the trees. The air screamed and bit into her skin as the world turning into a blur of green. Behind her, the Sith followed; his blade leaving a burning trail behind him.

At the last second, she rolled into a cartwheel and fired as she went. With incredible control, the Sith slowed his velocity just short of hers and moved to catch the incoming projectiles. He charged, swinging wildly. Rey kept shooting, always just a few inches short of his attacks as she danced around him.

He lunged and swung at her head. She bobbed her head back as she fired from the hip. When he moved to block it, she sent him flying with a telekinetic shove. However, he righted himself in seconds and responded in kind. The blow struck her hard in the chest and sent her flying, causing her skid across the ground until she hit a tree.

She threw off the nausea and got back to her as he advanced. She shook her sight. She couldn't beat him. With her saberstaff, she might've been able to close the distance and negate his Force advantage. But with what she had, she could not beat him. She needed to disengage and get help.

The moment she tried to bolt however, she heard the groan of a tree cracking in two and rolled forward to avoid being crushed. Ahead, the Sith pointed his weapon at her, its fiery point aimed at her face, "I've made my point, Jedi. Surrender."

"Over my dead body."

"Oh, I certainly hope not. I want to take you alive," and he dashed forward with his blade swinging. In the milliseconds she had, Rey blasted the ground ahead with a concentrated strike. The Sith leapt into the air, but that left him exposed and she threw everything short of a kitchen sink at him.

Though his defense was good, it was not perfect and she found her marks. One in particular smashed into his face and left a vicious crack over his visor to mirror the left one. Still he kept coming, tanking the hits without stopping. She was soon on the run again, and whatever advantage she had in speed or technique were quickly being overtaken by his dogged onslaught.

She turned her attention to the old pine ahead. After a series of placed shots, the tree came crashing down and Rey sent it hurtling at the pursuing Sith. She didn't wait for confirmation, running with everything she had. Something sounded behind her. She threw herself flat as a red wave passed over where her shoulder had been.

"Where do you think you're going, Jedi?" she heard behind her as the saber flew back.

"Away from you!" and she slammed her fist into the ash covered floor with such force that it created a massive whiteout. She didn't try running forward as expected, instead rolling to her side and behind a thicket of sycamores. She turned her head back, barely able to make out the faint hint of the crossguard.

She couldn't sense him there thanks to agony of nexus world. It seemed like he was having the same problem, looking around for her. Something sounded off in the distance, and he took off running after it. She breathed a sigh of relief as he disappeared, taking a second to collect herself before she'd beat a hasty retreat.

Then the blade came screaming at her from the gray, slicing straight into the tree and stopping at its emitter. She screamed in horror as the blade started sliding towards her, and she threw herself back to avoid being dissected. That had been her mistake.

In mid-flight, something gripped her and dragged her through the air until strong arms took hold of her. Both tightened around her throat as a hand pushed against the back of her neck. Her mind was already going faint as her trachea was being closed by his power grip. Immediately, she grabbed hold of his arms and tried to throw him by bending at the waist. Instead, he moved with the motion and dragged them both to the floor with her on top.

He increased the pressure. She was seeing white and spots and there was a ringing in her ears. She threw elbows, but felt the sharp pain of hitting armor. She tried to bite his arm, but found she couldn't. She threw blows against his retraining arm, but they became feeble in moments as everything became numb.

"Don't fight it," she heard him whisper, "Don't fight it."

They were the last words she heard as the darkness took her.

* * *

FN-2187… Finn, was faster than Phasma expected, and more dangerous. Granted, she hadn't quite known what to expect. In a fight, she had a cardinal rule of understanding her opponent first before engaging. But this was an unknown factor as she did not fully understand the Force, or how the Jedi fought.

They're methods were incomprehensible nonsense to her. There was no rhyme or rhythm to their movements, instead being completely tailored to their precognition. It made them more like dancers in rehearsal than proper duelists. It made their strategy difficult to see, and almost point. 'It's all spontaneous, instinctual action' had been Svar's way of putting it.

But Finn was different. He had method, he had strategy, but now there was a strength, speed and coordination unlike anything she'd fought. It was almost beyond her, even with her years of experience. This much was proven as she was slowly driven to the wall by blinding flashes at every corner she struggled to defend against. Her arms ached from the onslaught as her vision was consumed by sparks of blue and white.

There was one saving grace: she'd taught him how to fight. She remembered he had the tendency to overcommit when victory was in sight. He was much like a predator in that way. She drew a preemptive defense against his tight overhead flurries and saw the kick coming. She left it hit, drawing him as he held his saber held close to cheek to finish her off. She thrust her blade to meet his, tilting it under and throw the saber to the side as she moved to slash him across the stomach.

Somehow, he moved as she did his. Her blade cut thin air inches from her target, and she felt him moving to counter. Caught in an awkward position, she allowed the momentum to carry her downward to the ground. She grabbed the blade with her armored glove in a half-sword technique, spinning to slam the handle into his back and toss him onto the floor.

As she spun around again with Messer raised high, she saw that he was already rolling back to his feet a second after hitting the ground. She swung to catch him, missed by inches, and prepared to thrust forward when she found plasma pointed at her chest. She instinctively drew back and slapped the blade away, only for Finn to draw it back into place.

She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, and resolved herself. She drew back her foot and brought her blade into the long guard. Finn mirrored her exactly, the cyan lightsaber bringing a fierce intensity to his eyes. Their blades crossed, feeling the other for some small quiver of the next movement.

"You can't win," he said, moving to her right in a clockwise fashion, "and I think you know this."

She met his eye, moving to his left as they circled like wolves. "You've only learned tricks, Trooper. I trained you. I raised you. I know you."

"And I've outgrown you."

Suddenly, his blade flicked under hers and knocked it to the side. He lunged with a thrust as quick as a blink, and she was barely able to repost and counter. He sidestepped as she did, forcing her to deflect an quickened slash and throw a thrust to keep him at bay. She retreated a step, feeling a sudden pain over her left cheek.

She didn't bother to feel for it, instead of keeping her eyes on his. "You're a cheeky little stain, aren't you?"

"Merely proving a point. I've only begun to understand my power, Captain. But even this is more than you-"

Her blade slipped over his and pushed in. Her blade slipped through the top of his hand and then across his bicep. If he hadn't twisted when he did, she would've had his thumbs and shoulder. Now twisted to the side, she grabbed him by his head and threw him onto the floor with a hard _thumb_.

She closed in with her blade held high to skewer him. His blade came up, she pushed it to the side, and then she took a kick to the head. She fell over, translating into a rough roll as she heard the whine of the lightsaber moving behind her. She let him close the distance, and only when she smelled the cracking ozone did she spin to her left. She felt another sharp pain at her nape as she did, but she kept moving.

She brought the handle around to club him in the back of the head, contacting with a loud _crack_ and he stumbled forward. She moved to follow him with her messer held at the blade, but he dropped to his back and brought the lightsaber up. Too late to advert her fall, she pushed the blade aside and slammed her knee into his weapon arm. She brought the point around for his throat when she felt a sudden pain in her back.

She was conscious of her blade hitting stone and her flying away as she hit the ground hard. She was dully aware he'd somehow thrown her yards, but her instincts pushed that aside as she forced herself up. She ran, scooping up stones and throwing them at a dark blur stretching out for something. She had no idea if they hit, but they bought her enough time to close the distance.

Her hands went for his throat and arm, her vice like fingers digging into the soft flesh and drawing blood as she slammed a knee into his gut. Instead of bowing over, Finn moved into a tackle and slammed her back into the floor. She fought the nausea sweeping her, pushing her hands up to claw at his eyes while she tried to wriggle her knees under his chest.

Another second, and they were rolling over each other until she was thrown across the yard again. This time, she landed with grace and went for her Messer. When she came up, Finn already had his pointed inches from her. All he had to do was lurch forward and the plasma would sear through her armpit.

"Drop it," he ordered. In the second to answer, she realized he wasn't even tired. His breathing was absolutely steady. She however was panting, even though she was in the best possible shape she could be. She narrowed her eyes at him, readying to swing if given just the right window.

"You'll have to kill me, 'Finn.' Because I will not stop until you are."

"No, you are beaten. You can't. Go now and get my sister to safety."

"Safety?" she repeated before her eyes widened, "How did you know that?"

"Because I can feel her dying, Captain. If you continue fighting me, she **will** die."

"And if I let you go? You'll just come back to haunt us."

"No, I'll come back to free you. **All** of you."

Phasma watched his eyes, his face. He wasn't lying. Whether he was genuine about his intentions was beyond the point. He was right. Damn him, he was right. She couldn't beat him, not in a duel like this. And Ones…?

But if she did let him go, how many more of her children was he going to get killed?

"Mum, they are going to die anyway," he interrupted, "all for a war we did not choose."

"Stop reading my mind!" she snapped.

"Then stop thinking out loud. Besides, I don't need the Force to know what you're thinking."

"And what am I thinking, Trooper?"

"That I'm right. That no matter how much you try to deny it, you know I'm right."

Phasma ground her teeth behind closed lips, resisting the urge to vocally deny it. But she couldn't.

"I… I… damn you," she began to lower her blade. Finn's eyes widened and she saw him turning his head as if he were about to yell something. She turned, and the last thing she saw was a crimson fire slamming into her.

* * *

"No!" Finn shouted, but it was too late. The Bowcaster bolt sang through the air and Phasma was sent flying with a terrible micro-explosion. She crashed into the wall, flopped onto the ground like a dead fish… and did not move.

"No no no!" he screamed, sliding in to grab at her smoldering body. The bolt had struck along her side, and had taken much of her lower back with it. She was out. He could feel her heart beating, but it was fading fast. Too fast.

He heard the heavy foot falls of the Wookie close in behind him. He growled a question down at him, and Finn bit back a screaming curse. Instead, he hissed through clenched teeth to keep his voice level. "Chewbacca, find a stretcher. Quickly."

The wookie snarled at him, asking him why. She was his enemy.

Finn glared at him, snapping, "Get a stretcher or so help me, I will skin you alive!"

Chewbacca bared his teeth at him, drawing his weapon in… and then he stopped. He must've seen something in the humans' eyes. He sighed, nodded, and took off at a trot back the way he came. Finn turned back to the Captain. The bolt had been encased in plasma, so it had severely cauterized the wound. He knew the moment he tried to move her though, it would reopen the wound. But if he didn't move her, she would die.

He pulled out his medical kit, finding bacta strips and gel-gauze. He began to apply both, planning to wrap the wound in her cloak after when he suddenly felt movement coming his way. "That was fast, Chewbacca. I-"

He turned, and found the barrel of an F-11 pointed at his face.

"Traitor!" the shooter hissed. Finn didn't know the man, but he knew he was a Stormtrooper or at least was one. He guessed the latter, considering how big he was. Another came over, this time a woman, and she was almost the same size as her squadmate.

"Up!" she ordered, "Step away from her!"

"No," he growled, throwing his medical pouch at her, "I'm trying to save her life. Either shoot me, or help."

"Did you do this, Eighty-Seven?" the man asked, "If you did-"

"I didn't. Are you going to help?"

They looked at each other, and then shouldered their weapons. They drew their own medical kits, and with practiced ease began to layer Phasma's grievous injury with bacta and gauze.

"What the hell did this? This isn't a blaster burn." The woman asked.

Finn looked up as Chewbacca's silhouette pierced the smoke ahead. "A bowcaster bolt."

The Troopers immediately drew their weapons, but the wookie held up a makeshift stretcher. He growled something at them. They both looked at Finn, and he nodded. "Bring it here, Chewbacca. Please."

"Chewbacca," the man hissed, "as in Han Solo's-"

"Eighty, please don't tick off the wookie."

"Just saying, L," Eighty growled as he glared at Finn, "you're a dead man, traitor. Might not be today, might not be tomorrow, but you're going to hang for this. I'll make sure of that."

"Yes, I'm sure. Lift and tie."

With Chewbacca's help, they managed to wrap Phasma torso in her cloak and carefully set her down onto the stretcher. L reached for her comm, "Twenty-Three, this is L. Phasma is down. I repeat, Phasma is down. She needs immediate dust-off and care."

There was a long silence before she nodded, "Understood. We'll be there in three. Out. Eighty?"

"I've got her, let's move. Eighty-Seven, if you try to-"

"Just go," Finn interrupted, "and get her off this forsaken planet."

They looked at him for a moment as though expecting him to try something. Then they plucked up the woman who had raised them all, and disappeared into the smoke. When they'd gone, Finn spun around and struck Chewbacca in the stomach. Even with his gradually enhancing strength, it was like hitting a wall and he flexed his hand painful.

Still, Chewbacca snarled and reared back to retaliate when he stayed his hand just short of sending Finn through a wall. He sighed, and growled a question at him.

"What? I don't understand you."

Chewbacca growled again, jutting at his head. It took Finn a second to understand the gesture, and began to read his thoughts.

" _Rey, Han. Seen 'em, pip-squeak?"_

"No I haven't, you giant mongrel. I thought they were with you."

" _Well they're not. Put your pansy feelings aside and help me find them."_

"Sure thing, backstabber."

Chewbacca glared down at him. " _She was trying to kill you."_

"She was putting down her sword!" Finn snapped back.

" _Didn't look like that from my perspective."_

"I had the situation under control. If you hadn't interfered-"

" _She'd what? Defect? Join you in your merry crusade?"_

"No, I wanted her to go back. To tell the others the truth I'd shown her. To stop this war before it even started!"

" _Started? Look around you, boy! It has already begun! Besides, do you honestly think she could stop this from going any further, after what's been done already?"_

"Well, we won't know now, won't we? Maybe it is wishful thinking, but," Finn shook his head, trying to keep his voice from cracking, "just maybe, she could've."

Chewbacca sighed at that, placing his massive hand on his shoulder, " _For what it's worth, I'm sorry. But we don't have time for this."_

Finn nodded, taking a breath to clear his head. "You're right. Let's find the others."

* * *

It had been a long time since he'd walked these woods, and somehow even the war around them hadn't disturbed the silence here. Kylo Ren was glad the pirates had gone the other way. The peace was… well, just that. It reminded him of a better time, a simpler time. When he'd had everything, and everyone a man could want. He felt Rey moan softly in his arms and he stopped to look at her. He watched the subtle movements of her face, the stirring of her hair, the softness of her-

"Stop," he said to himself, "you're not here for nostalgia. The mission-"

 _Mission?_

His head shot up. his hand dropping to his saber as the other held the Jedi in place against his chest. "Who's there? Show yourself."

 _Tell me, is it worth it? Any of it?_

He spun around, but there was nothing but trees. Not even birds or insects were present. "Stop playing games. Show yourself."

 _And now you've brought her into it. Why?_

"I said-" Something ignited behind him. He spun, blade pointed… and then he realized where he was. "Son of a mynok."

Ahead, the blue flame burned brightly in the courtyard. A swirling mist appeared, and he saw a silhouette appear at its center. Kylo Ren stared at it wide-eyed behind his helm. His hand holding the saber quaked as he mouth fall agape. The silhouette began to take form. A humanoid form… a womans form. At the top, he saw… no, it couldn't be.

He closed his eyes, but they were still there. Horns. A pair of horns.

 _Why have you done this?_

"I-" but he couldn't answer. He began to walk without realizing it, stepping into the courtyard as he walked towards it. The mist swirled around his feet, pulling at him. He didn't dare stop it.

 _Was I that important to you? That you would do this? All of this?_

"Yes," he replied at last, "you were."

He stretched his hand out, walking deeper and deeper into the mist. He didn't know what he was supposed to do next or what he would do if what he was seeing was real. Ironically, he wasn't given the choice. The mist was suddenly, violently ripped from him, as though some invisible void was tearing it away.

"No!" he called out, reaching out desperately to pull it back. "No! Come back!"

But it was too late. The vision faded. He found himself in an empty courtyard alone, his hand outstretched and Rey still unconscious in his arms. He stared at the ground where it had been… and not.

"I am alone, then. Even you have abandoned me," he whispered. Then he considered something. The thought made him shake with rage. "Or are you incapable of showing yourself to me?"

He moved to wrench his helm from his face before he stopped himself. What was the use? What would she say to him that he didn't already imagine of himself? What could he say to her to make her understand why this had to happen? He couldn't bring himself to answer those questions and he slowly, reluctantly, pulled his hand from his face.

"The mission isn't over." He looked again at the flame, still burning there, "soon."

Above, he heard the roar of transports flying in and he took his leave with all haste, unaware that he was being followed. It wasn't until the transport was in sight ahead, waiting for him, that he finally felt it. The one familiar presence he had prayed he wouldn't meet here. But it was there.

He turned very slowly to find Han Solo standing there, looking at him. Pain, regret, horror: all of it was etched on his face. A face he had dreaded seeing again. For Kylo, Lord of Ren, it was like looking at a mirror of everything that had been taken for him, staring right back at him.

'Why couldn't you have just stayed away, old man?' he wanted to say, but didn't. The hope Han had in his eyes made sure of that. The hope of something that couldn't be. Han stretched his hand for him. Kylo flinched back, but Han kept coming. He didn't know what to do. What-

Suddenly, there was a burst of plasma fire and Han dove for cover. A pirate appeared at his side, barking for him to get aboard. Kylo stared at where Han had disappeared to, the small wall crumbling under the barrage.

'The mission isn't over.'

"He won't bother us, Pirate. Come."

As he turned to leave, he felt the pirate pull for detonator. "Oh no! He's worth 50k dead! I'm gonna collect for me troubles!"

Behind his mask, Kylo's lips twisted into a snarl. Without sign, without breaking his stride, he reached his mind back and armed the explosives strapped to his chest. Panic took him as he screamed for help, but the Lord of Ren did not care. As he stepped onto the transport, the pirate exploded. There was nothing left of him, but a crater. Kylo turned to the ranking NCO, growling, "Is everyone aboard?"

It took a moment for the man to pull his eyes from what happened to answer in a stammering voice, "Er… y-yes, m'lord."

"Then take off. Now."

The doors closed behind him and in moments they were in atmo. Kylo settled himself and his prisoner at the back of the transport. Everyone else kept a healthy distance. He didn't mind at all.

* * *

"Bonnie, status?" Captain Sydow bellowed.

"The last of the transports have docked, cap'n."

The Crimson Corsair nodded, focusing his attention on the _Kenobi_ ahead as though he were willing it to finally die. Every available ship still capable of firing ion cannons were pouring burst after burst into the smoking _Nebula-_ Class Star Destroyer, even as they in turn blazed from the enemy fleet and their damnable bombers. Every second ticked as Sydow watched the mission clock. 4 minutes, 29 seconds it read.

'C'mon, Antilles. Cash out already.'

The _Kenobi_ had engaged it's interdictor fields the moment they'd closed broadsides. It wasn't as powerful as a standard Interdictor Cruiser, but it had enough range to keep them stuck here and running away wasn't an option.

Critical failures were reported everywhere, ships calling in excessive damages. Atmo vents, decks lost, shields gone, weapons offline. It all ran through his ears as he bit his lip until it bled. 3 minutes, 15 seconds.

The enemy must've been aware of what was happening too. A _Rendili-IV_ Assault Frigate charged the line and began pouring fire into the _Scarlet Night's_ hull. His comms officers called out that the other ships were moving to engage the frigate, but Sydow snapped, "Belay that! Do not disengage from the _Kenobi!_ Keep shooting!"

2 minutes, 45 seconds. The lights suddenly went out to be replaced by emergency ones that painted the room scarlet. Power failures were reported, engines were fluttering out, shields were down to barely 6%.

"Keep all power in the weapons system!" he all but screamed. Then, as though a miracle happened, the _Kenobi_ guns stopped. It's shields flickered out and it started to tilt out of axis. They'd finally knocked out it's power generators. 1 minute, 44 seconds.

"All ships, prepare to jump to hyperspace!"

"Calculations in thirty seconds, sir!" his navigator reported, "Sending data packages to all other-"

Alarms suddenly rang out and in that moment, Sydow felt his heart stop beating. Far ahead, multiple signals reported and then materialized in the form of Star Destroyers and Mon-Cala Cruisers. A half dozen of them. Behind, a dozen more support ships arrived. 1 minute, 33 seconds. Reinforcements had arrived early.

" _This is Admiral Raddus of the New Republic Navy! Power down your ships, or you will be destroyed!"_ The comms barked.

"19 seconds to calculations, sir!"

"Cap'n, their power systems are coming online! Estimated time-"

"15 seconds!"

"-in 10 seconds, sir!"

"We're dead! We're so frickin'-"

Sydow struck the man across the head, "Stow that talk, or I will flog you, Mister D'jeen!"

"Five seconds!"

"Enemy systems are online! I'm detecting inter-"

"Calculations mapped! Ships report ready!"

"LAUNCH!" Sydow roared as reality was pulled at the seams. Everything around him stretched into inmaterium, sharp daggers of white tearing the space ahead to pieces as an event horizon appeared at its center. Then, they were through.

Sydow opened his eyes, and was rewarded with the familiar and joyous sight of a hyperspace wormhole pulling through the void. They'd made it.

* * *

 **A note from the Authors:**

* * *

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Squasher here. Same story as before, we are currently still writing Chapter 43. While we will work to get our backlog back by November 10th, we may delay the release of certain chapters if we can't. I will update if this is the case. For that reason, no preview will be posted this time. We'd also like to thank **Terminator57** and **IanAlphaAxel** for their reviews.

Happy Halloween.


	46. Chapter 39 - Aftermath

**Chapter 44 - Aftermath**

* * *

 **High Orbit of Takodana**

 **MC90 Star Cruiser _Sagacity_**

* * *

Admiral Kasey Raddus surveyed the strewned remains of dozens of destroyed and crippled warships with a melancholic gaze. For him, he was not here above the one time Jedi Temple World, but over thirty years past on Mon Cala. What had been Mon Cala, anyway. There, like here, he was too late to save his home and affect the battle that had put his people into exile and slavery.

His aquatic hands tightened into a whitening fist. He remembered the final moments of King Lee Char, the man he had failed to protect. He had never forgiven Thrawn for that, despite them having to fight alongside each other more than once over the past decades. 'Better to be friends at arm's length with the Chiss Empire rather than having yet another enemy,' had been Mon Mothma's way of putting it.

'Convenient alliances,' he swore inwardly, 'I hope you stay that way, you blue skinned demegolka. Otherwise, I'll kill you at the first opportunity.'

"Sir," a human deck officer reported, "the _Kenobi_ signals she's restored communications."

"And the planet?"

"Aye sir, them too."

"Put them through when convenient."

He acknowledged, returning his gaze back to concluded battle. Most of the wrecked ships belonged to the Corsairs, but Wedge had likewise taken a serious beating. The _Kenobi_ would need extensive repairs, as would the surviving _Rendili-IV_ Assault Cruiser and the two _Virgilla-_ Class Frigates. The only ship not extensively damaged, destroyed or disabled had been the _Endurance-_ Class carrier, but that was only because even droid fighters weren't brave enough to try and pierce the fleet's picket line of starfighters.

It was only a small comfort. Had events not taken the turn they did, he might've been able to prevent a war. Now, they were going to fight it to the bitter end.

"Sir, _Kenobi_ and the Temple are ready to transmit."

"Send them through," he sighed, and after a moment was presented the holographic forms of Wedge Antilles and Han Solo. He noticed the Wedge's image was flickering in and out, and in his peripherals saw the _Kenobi_ was still in free-float.

" _It looks a lot worse than it is, Admiral,"_ the commodore grinned, " _she can take a beating, as per her namesake."_

"As can you," Raddus grinned back, gesturing to the bandages covering the side of his face, "the _Scarlet Night,_ I assume? Well, I'll add her to my very long kill-list. Can't guarantee she'll be at the top, but it shall be close enough."

" _With all due respect, sir, I can get my own revenge."_

"Noted, Commodore" he turned to Han, "where's Commandant Shrike? I expected him to be here"

" _He's still in surgery. His skull was fractured."_

"And the situation on the ground?"

" _As bad you can expect,"_ he said with a weary sigh, " _hundreds dead, thousands wounded… and they got the map."_

Somehow, Wedge looked grimer than even what Raddus himself could pull off. " _Was the cartography completed?"_

" _Right up to the minute Sydow showed up. We didn't even have time to make a copy."_

" _So, we're kriffed basically. And they got Rey, too?"_ Han nodded, and Wedge groaned inwardly, " _So we also lost the only other known surviving Jedi. Wonderful. Admiral, did you get a read on where they went?"_

Raddus could tell they already knew the answer, but he said it anyway, "Straight for the border. Even if things weren't completely in spiral, we wouldn't be able to chase them down."

" _Spiral?"_ Wedge asked, " _What the hell does that mean?"_

" _It means he was late for a reason,"_ Han said.

"Aye, indeed. To cut a long story short, Borealis has issued warrants for the arrest of everyone who was at that meeting with Lando and Leia. That includes me and probably eventually all of you."

" _On what charges?"_ Wedge demanded.

Raddus shrugged. "Oh you know, treason? Attempting to move military assets without Command approval? Possibly trying to provoke a war? I'll give the peace pusher credit, he's no pacifist when he comes to throwing punches."

" _How bad is it?"_ Han asked, not asking the obvious question.

"She's safe, that much I know. As for the rest? Well, a state of emergency has been declared, Congress is on lockdown, and the Antarian Rangers have been branded enemies of the state after they apparently found something to link them to the bombings. To top it off, there's a manhunt for my uncle, and Hera's fleet's been grounded on Mandalore."

" _Grounded?"_ Wedge asked, paling like a ghost, " _Do you mean-?"_

Raddus nodded, "Whoever is pulling strings is good and fast. Ackbar was barely out of drydock when SecFor attempted to detain him, and he only managed to get a third of the Fifth out before they were interdicted. Hera didn't even get the chance to move hers out of Mandalore's orbit before the Second seized them. She had to get out on an escape pod down to the planet."

" _And Sabine?"_

"Refusing to let them land."

Wedge chuckled " _Girl was always stubborn, but this? Heh, well Hera is family. Have they established a blockade yet?"_

"Yup. They haven't gone any further yet, but the word is that the Chancellor's having the Courts draft up an extradition order."

" _Borealis wouldn't dare,"_ Wedge snarled, " _the Mandalorians would never hand her over. They'd have to bomb the planet. Even he isn't-"_

"Insane, stupid or just plain angry that his friend is dead and we're an easy target? The man's practically like a Reek seeing red. I was just lucky I left for Dac early and managed to pull this much out."

" _Yeah, but if he follows through and there is a fight?"_ Han asked gravely, " _Well, the other Sectors won't take it lying down and we all know the Core Worlds would side with the Chancellor."_

" _Civil war,"_ Wedge said for them all, " _stars, they played us. At this point, the First Order doesn't even need to fire a shot. We'll just do it for them."_

"All the while they get the Forge and probably justification for an intervention," the proud Calamari slunk into his chair in utter despair, "we spent a decade fighting for the dream and over night we'll destroy it. What the Seven Corellian Hells do we do?"

" _We stick to Leia's plan,"_ Han answered resolutely, " _the Imps are gonna make a move and soon. If Borealis won't stop them, then we'll have to."_

" _Before or after our own start shooting each other? Even if we win, the First Order will still get the Forge, and they'll have all the cards needed to flush us out. Face it, Han, we're kriffed."_

" _Never tell me the odds, Wedge. This isn't over, not while we're still here to fight it out,"_ he then turned back to Raddus, " _Now, where's Ackbar?"_

"I don't know. He's supposed to rendezvous with us, but he went comm. silent hours ago after he escaped Caridia."

" _Then the plan hasn't changed. We secure and hold, see if we can get the First Order to blink first."_

" _That's a dangerous play, Han. That's even assuming Ackbar does get here."_

" _It's the only play we have left, Wedge. I'll be damned if I'm letting them win after what we went through just to get here."_

Raddus chuckled at that, making the ex-smuggler raise an eyebrow. The Mon Calamari simply shrugged, "With that passion, you could've run for office."

" _Do I look like Lando, Raddus?"_

" _Nah, he's the respectable one,"_ Wedge smirked, " _though there was that one time he tried to sell Hera—"_

" _I rest my case, Wedge."_

"There is one other problem we haven't considered," Raddus interrupted gravely, "what with Borealis ordering a manhunt for my uncle and generally arresting everyone who stands with us, the chances of us having a blue on blue is quite probable. Especially if stopping the First Order means having to go through our own."

" _Yeah,"_ Han sighed, his hands creasing his eyes, " _we'll cross that nebula when we come to it. Now, how soon can you get your fleet back in order, Wedge?"_

" _Honestly? Days if we're lucky. But more than likely it's going to be more than that. Sydow beat me down worse than a bar fight on Nar Shaddaa. Only consolation is that I did worse to him."_

"I'll arrange my best technicians to give you a hand. As for the meantime, I'll be taking over perimeter security until my uncle arrives."

" _You really think Sydow or his employers would want a second round with you here?"_ Wedge scoffed, " _They're crazy, not stupid."_

"They're not what I'm worried about," Raddus shook his head sadly, starring out into the void of space, "not by a long shot."

* * *

In the heart of the _Scarlet Night,_ Kylo Ren entered his private chambers with his prisoner still unconscious in his arms. As he entered, secondary false walls opened and revealed the prison cell hidden there. He had requested the room for that very reason. He extended his fingers out, opening the arma-glass pane and bringing forth the reconfigured surgical table before he felt a sudden discomfort. He heard a soft hiss and saw the Yssalimir sticking its tongue at him from the corner of the cell.

"What are you looking at?" he growled, feeling the uncomfortable sense of flailing in dark, constricting waters. He never liked the little lizards or how they could rob him of his connection to the Force with their mere presence, but they were useful. Especially in this case.

The fuzzy creature glared at him for a long moment before laying its head down on the branch that provided its nutrients, and Kylo got to work. He placed her on the table, locking the securing clamps around her limbs, especially her hands.

"Last thing I need you doing is pulling a Rusaan with some wall wires and a conductor. Might take out the power to the ship trying to open the door."

She moaned softly at that, catching him off guard. He couldn't help but look at her, brush aside an idle hair from her eyes, run his hand over her ear… he stopped himself, and sighed. "I'm not here to reminisce. I just need you out of the way."

'Is that the only reason?' a voice asked him, 'After all that we've given up, you really think that's the only reason you went out of your way to get her?'

"The mission isn't over. That's all that matters. Her being out there would just complicate things. She'll be safer here."

'Safer in the hands of pirates whose buddies she's killed? Yeah, can't imagine what they would do if they knew she was here. You're lucky Sydow's such a generous man.'

"Shut up," he snorted, securing the last of the locks, "I don't have time for an argument with a guilty conscience, not with what's ahead."

'You could just take her now. Find an escape pod, walk away.'

"It's too late for that. Far too late."

'Is it?' He looked to his right, and saw in the refresher room a face staring at him from the mirror. His face, one without the mask or the years of pain marking it. It held him with measured contempt, its eyes judging him with that kind of righteousness he'd grown to hate. 'You had everything, everyone that a man could want. But you threw it all away. Do really think this will change anything?'

He threw a simple gesture to smash the mirror to pieces. He growled when nothing happened, even seeing the little furry bastard smirking at him in his peripherals. He walked into the lavatory, his face glaring at him all the while before he slammed his fist into it with a loud _crack_. It shattered to falling pieces, clattering into the sink as blood dripped from his fist.

"Yes. Considerably."

He went back and closed the door to the cell, locking it into place and giving her a last glance before his comm's dinged. "This is Lord Kylo."

" _Boy, its Sydow. We need to talk. Meet me in the medbay, room 134. And don't dally, or I'll send a crew to get you."_

"As you wish, Captain. I will be there in a few minutes."

He sealed the cell away behind the facade, locking his quarters up before he made his way to the top of the ship. The process took longer than expected, what with so many decks being out as well as several of the turbo lifts. But at least the crew kept their distance, either too busy to notice or generally wary of his presence. He didn't care either way.

He found Sydow a few minutes later, staring out at the immobile form of Captain Phasma secure inside a horizontal bacta tank. To his surprise, he had his great helm off. The worry did much to age him.

"Will she live?" Kylo asked.

"I don't know, lad," he answered, not daring to look away from her, "internal organ damage, bleeding; fractures to her spine, hip, pelvis and ribs; multiple contusions to her cranium…"

There was probably more, but the captain couldn't bare to continue and Kylo didn't push the matter. Truth be told, the sight of the cold stillness to the once marvelous form sent an unconscious shiver down Kylo's back. He knew the feeling all too well.

"She is alive, at least. I can sense her in there, fighting. The Admiral knows how to pick them."

"Thanks for tryin' to make me feel better, boy. But that ain't why I called you here," he spun in his chair, his icy eyes seizing him angrily, "you killed one of my men."

"He was careless with his explosives. Besides, I did tell him to get aboard. He refused, and we were pressed for time."

"I saw the recording, boy. I know what happened."

"Then why am I here, Captain? What's done is done, and I do not answer to you."

"Maybe not, but this is a dangerous game you're playin'. I wonder what your colleagues are going to think about all of this."

"Are you threatening me, Sydow?"

"No, just statin' the obvious. After all, you kill a man for tryin' to kill your father. Then you bring a Jedi aboard my ship without sendin' word to anyone else. Quite suspicious, don't it?"

"I am a Lord of Ren," he growled, "I am beyond such allegations."

"Sure. Why is she on my ship, boy? Why have you not called your mates? I'm sure they'd love to take her off your hands."

"I'm sure they would."

Sydow rose to his feet, glaring deep into his obsidian visor as he jutted a finger into his chest. "You had best keep trouble off me ship, boy. Else, that trouble will find you."

"The only trouble will be if you fail to uphold your end of the bargain. As per your contract, the First Order and Knights of Ren cannot board your vessels without your express permission."

"So that's what this is? You renting space so the boys in black don't get your girl?"

"Only until I can move her to my own ship, where I have complete autonomy."

An artic smile passed the old pirate's lips. "There's more to it than that, isn't there? You could've called in that ship the moment we hit hyperspace, but you didn't. I wonder why that is. Something to do with your boss, perhaps?"

Kylo shrugged. "He's not the most trusting of people."

"And he's the only one who can demand you to hand her over, autonomy or not. You're hopeless, boy, you know that? All of this fuss over a woman."

"No different than you, Captain."

"Sure. I want double the payment."

"Done."

"...how much money have you stolen from those crime bosses, boy? I thought this would be a deal breaker."

"Enough to rival Count Dooku. I even stole one of his treasure barges from Zorba the Hutt once."

That made Sydow chuckle, "Y'know with that much wealth, you could've just bought the New Republic Congress. Well, most of it anyway."

"And why would I do that? I'd just be contributing to the problem."

"Still could've made some difference. Be easier than waging a war."

"I'm not going to buy the people's representatives, enough do that already. Besides, the issue is far more systematic than that. Deeper than any politician can solve."

"Still though, a lot could be done with a few bribes here and there."

"Then why have you not done it, hmm? Why are serving with us when you have the credits to achieve your own goals? A few bribes here and there would do well to put the spotlight on Zorba and Zhan."

Sydow looked at him for a moment, sighing as his brows furrowed. "Because I shouldn't have to."

"Yes, we shouldn't have to, and in the end it would be pointless."

"There's always a bigger fish to get its way."

"Yes. Thus, it requires a more drastic solution. As the good Captain once said, change can only be achieved through force, and violence is the ultimate expression of that."

Sydow shot him an odd look. "You've fallen a long way from being the Justicar of the Jedi. A long way."

"I'm just balancing the scales. No different than you."

"The difference is that it makes sense for me to do that. But you? You were the best of them."

"No, I wasn't. I never was," he turned to make his way to the door, "if there's nothing else, I'll be in my quarters."

He stopped at the threshold, turning his head. "And Captain? If I find your men in places they don't belong, I won't ask nicely."

"They'll leave her alone."

"I'll hold you to that."

* * *

Helplessness. That was one the feeling above all else Finn had been taught to resent. The feeling of powerlessness. To feel it, he was taught, was to surrender one's own personal control over the world around him. That in turn would lead to despair, weakness. Little more than beasts with little concept beyond mere survival.

'Survival,' he thought grimly, 'what point is there to that when I am met by only failure?'

He couldn't answer that question. It was for this that he was in the fields of the dead, helping the Rangers move the countless corpses burned, buried and shattered for miles around. It took his mind off of things, made him not think at all. Even the smell didn't bother him, or the feeling of grimey ash covering his form. He didn't care, and he hated that.

What point was there to living if he had to resort to becoming an unthinking droid because he couldn't solve or overcome what put him there to begin with? His boot found something to kick, and he sent it rolling into a ditch. He hadn't even realized he'd screamed when he did, not until he saw the worried glances around him.

Unknowingly, he had kicked the body of a pirate, and the blow had burst open its chest cavity. The sight was less sickening than it was aggravating. An exclamation point to his lack of control and discipline.

"Finn? You okay?"

He turned to find Poe standing there, extended a hand out to take him by the shoulder. He shook his head at him. "No, I'm not. Are you?"

Poe looked haggard, bags forming under his eyes as the skin clung to his bones like leather. Finn honestly didn't know if he looked worse than himself, but he did look a lot more grim.

He shrugged his shoulders after a moment. "Not really. We lost a lot of good people today. I lost a few friends too. One's even in critical care at the moment."

"Deliah?"

Poe nodded. "Guessed you sensed it?"

"You think out loud. I now understand what Rey felt being around you."

Poe chuckled and slugged him in the arm. Finn cracked a smile despite himself, but it was only for a moment. "We failed, Poe. Everything that we accomplished has become like this place," he gestured to the fields of death and ash, "they have the map, they have Rey, and—"

He couldn't bring himself to finish it. He hung his head at his inability to do so, hating himself for that weakness.

"It's not weakness," Poe suddenly said, bringing his eyes over, "what? You ain't the only one who can sense things now, y'know."

"Yes," he smiled slightly, "how very annoying. A comfort I had was that I could always brood in peace. Now you've taken that away from me."

"Well, it's gotta balance out somehow. But look, you're wrong about yourself. You ain't weak, and we haven't failed."

"Have we? From my observation, the First Order has achieved all of its objectives thus far. They will have the Forge, the New Republic is tearing itself to pieces, they have the last Jedi, and I failed to save **her**."

"Her. Chewie told me what happened."

"I don't blame him, if that's what you're wondering. No, that's not what's bothering me."

"Yeah it is. Maybe not her getting blown away, but 'cause you feel like you failed to bring her over."

"I was so close," he gritted his teeth, wringing his hands, "a little longer, she would've seen the truth."

"Your truth or her own? There's two sides to everything, pal, and even if she had gotten back, you think anything would've come of it?"

"Yes, I do. It would've taken time, but she would've carried my message. Perhaps stopped this war before it began."

"You're putting a lot of faith on the shoulders of one person."

"It always starts with one, Poe. Even your New Republic started that way."

"Maybe. But I learned a long time ago that things that are worth it are never easy. You'll fail, you'll stumble. What matters is you get up and keep trying until it happens."

"Your mother said that?"

"Nah, my dad."

"Hmm, I can see that," he shook his head, "but what is the point when the finish line is moved away? We can't win, Poe. We can fight, even fight well, but we'll lose in the end."

Poe grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him about, glaring at him with a passion hot as a forge. "Then we'll make the end worth it. I'm not giving up, not while I still got two hands, two eyes and a joystick to use. 'Sides, we don't need to win to win."

"Um, what is that supposed to mean?"

Poe chuckled softly as he elaborated, "I'm sure they taught you all about the Rebellion and how they won in the end."

"They won the battles that mattered."

"And they got kicked around a lot before they did. That's how they won. They kept fighting even when they lost again and again. To give up is to die, Finn. That much I can agree with what they taught you. So, let's not give up. And if we have to die to prove we ain't gonna break, then so be it."

Finn smiled at that, the sight truly genuine. "The words of a true Jedi. Rey certainly picked you well."

"You too, pal. Though to be honest, I don't wanna die. I got plans."

"And women to be with?"

"Nah, just one. I'm done playing around and feeling sorry for myself. It's not what my mom wanted. It's probably not what my dad wants either."

"So, are you going to ask her when she wakes?"

"Uh, no. I ain't ready yet."

"We could die soon. You might not get the chance later."

"Then I won't die."

Finn just laughed, more bark than anything else. "You have a roundabout way of things, Poe Dameron. You speak encouragingly about glorious sacrifice, then you try to wiggle your way out so you can be with your wingwoman, and now you're trying to wiggle out of that, too."

"I'm complicated, okay?"

"Yes, you are. I think it was the reason I dragged you across a desert to begin with."

"Hey, break your legs sometime soon and I'll repay the favor."

"Oh no, I don't enjoy that particular sensation."

"Buddy, no one does, and the ones who say they do are liars."

"What about masochists?"

"Them be liars, too."

"Ha." Finn then unconsciously felt for the lightsaber at his hip, staring at its manufactured form. "If the worst happens to Rey—"

"It ain't gonna."

"But if it does, you and I will be the last of them. What then?"

"Then we'll figure it out together—" he then looked past his shoulder, "huh."

"What?" Finn looked over to see what he was looking at.

"I dunno, there's just a feeling or something."

"I feel it too."

They took off at a run, dodging past platoons of men with stretchers and wheelbarrows until they ended up at an unsuspecting crater. For whatever reason, something was drawing them there, and they felt the strange urge to start digging.

"Oh no, I ain't getting my hands in that," Poe replied, "we're civilized folk. We'll use shovels."

"We're Jedi, I'm sure we can probably just push it aside."

"Oh sure, go right ahead. You know how to do that, right?"

"...no."

"Then we use shovels. Hey, you! Yeah, you! Get over here!"

A Ranger came running over, holding a rucksack full of entrenching tools. Poe took it from him, pulled two out, and then shoved the bag back at him. "Thanks. Now git."

The Ranger looked at him oddly. Poe sighed, "I'm sorry, you can leave now, please." He nodded and left. "What the hell was that about?"

"You ever met a holy man before, Poe? Or a shaman?"

"No?"

"They had looks like that, too. Especially in their holy places or of that nature."

"Oh you gotta be kidding me. What, we a pair of gods now? There gonna be a city of gold next?"

"Honestly, that just sounds like the plot of a holo-film. Regardless though, we're a pair of symbols now. Best to act the part."

"Thanks," he took his tool and kicked the shovel into the dirt, "but I ain't ready to be an inanimate object."

"Ha," and Finn set to his pace. Eventually, they found what they were looking for, and Finn took the saberpike into his hands. "Well, now we know how Rey was taken. Didn't anyone tell her that one's weapon is one's life?"

"Considering she got a valley dropped on her, I think you can excuse her. Now, give it here."

"Why?"

"You already have one. I think it's fair for me to get one."

"You're a pilot, Poe, what use would you have for it? Besides, it's not yours," he unrolled the strapping and swung it over his shoulder, "and I plan to return it to its rightful owner."

"Frickin' buzzkill. You ain't no fun," Poe then held up a hand to his ear, "Dameron here. Ah, alright. I'll be right there."

"Debriefing?"

"Yeah. They want you too."

"I thought as much. I need to visit a workshop anyway."

Poe looked at him strangely, "Why's that?"

Finn held up his bandaged hand and gestured to his lightsaber, "Phasma almost took my thumbs off because the lightsaber didn't have a hand-guard. Before I go into battle again, I am going to rectify that. I have a feeling I'm going to need to use it again."

"What are you going to use? Not many metals can stop a saber, or even a vibro-blade for that matter."

"I'm sure the Rangers got something."

* * *

 **A note from the Authors:**

* * *

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Squasher here. Due to it being the end of the college semester, I've had to split time between writing this and working on projects. So, we got this done literally around 2 in the morning. While we will work to get our backlog back by November 10th, we may delay the release of certain chapters if we can't. I will update if this is the case. For that reason, no preview will be posted this time. We'd also like to thank **IanAlphaAxel** for his review.


	47. Chapter 40 - The Seven Lords of Ren

**Chapter 45 - The Seven Lords of Ren**

* * *

 **Hyperspace**

 ** _Providence-_ Class Cruiser _Scarlet Night_**

* * *

Captain Sydow was, as per usual of the last several hours, particularly cross with the most recent request Kylo Ren had made of him. "Remind me again why you need a table this large? This is just a holo-conference."

"Tradition," Kylo Ren answered, "that is the simplest answer I can provide you. And this is not just a holo-conference, as you put it. This is a hosting of the Lords of Ren. That demands standards."

"You could just copy the Jedi and just have chairs. Wouldn't require me boys to dig one up and roll it in here."

"That defeats the purpose of us not being the Jedi, Captain. Besides, this is tame compared to the Throne World of Asukku. That table is made from Mustafarian basalt and even I can barely move it."

"Why do you need a table like that? Wait, don't tell me. Tradition."

Kylo shrugged, "Or just Praetor Ren being his usual bureaucratic self. Either answer works in my opinion."

"Noted. Now, can I go back to doin' my job?"

"No one is requiring you to stand around, Captain. I can manage any malcontents."

"And I have to manage the medical bill. Now, are you finished here?"

"Hmm," he pushed the table a bit over with the Force and then nodded.

"Have fun."

The door shut behind him as the lights dimmed and he pulled up a chair, eyeing the other empty six ringing the table. He sighed, "Yes, I am sure."

A minute later, the projector above flickered on, and holographic beams shot across the room to each of the individual chairs. One by one, they would be filled by the shimmering, opaque forms of his fellow Lords of Ren. When all six arrived, the meeting would begin.

" _Lord Kylo,"_ the first to arrive said, his accented voice thick with superiority, " _how generous of you host this meeting."_

"Lord Praetor," Kylo nodded. 'Always have to be the first, don't you?' he did not add, 'Political punctuality and all that.'

Indeed, the Lord of the Praetorian Guard was always first to a meeting he curated and second to any he was not. It was his way of projecting his importance. Even his silver segmented armor was freshly polished with every golden sigil, wreath and wolf head waxed to reflecting perfection. And of course, the man's purple cloak and ploom of animal hair dyed indigo and white all looked pressed and formal.

" _One should take pride in one's appearance, Lord Kylo,"_ Praetor said with the hint of a smirk, " _if one fines fault in such a thing, perhaps they are looking for it in the wrong direction."_

"Thanks for the wardrobe advice. Now where's your shadow?"

He gestured to his right, " _Right here, of course."_

He materialized a moment later. Praetor never attended these meetings without Hussar, Lord of Shadows, and the man looked to have been called from a hunt. His aura and irritable demeanor was enough to confirm that, but Kylo couldn't help but stare at his latest trophies. A fresh Wookie pelt lining his leather coat collar, the jawbone of some predator grafted into his gaunt helmet… and new lightsabers dangling from his belt.

He didn't recognize any of them. "I see you've been busy, Hussar."

" _Indeed he has, Lord Kylo,"_ Praetor answer, " _performing the Master's good work."_

"Yes, I'm sure."

Hussar glared at him from behind those red irises of his, crossing his arms to show he'd brought his gauntlet sabers. Kylo's head tilted slightly his hand resting just short of his crossguard.

" _A pity we are not here in the flesh or in the arena,"_ Praetor chuckled, " _such a match would make for grand spectacle."_

" _That however, would be quite improper,"_ another voice replied in a strained yet authoritative whisper, " _nobility must set forth the proper ways of bearing, as is natural."_

They all turned to the fourth of their company, glum as he always was. Kylo bowed his head in his presence, "Lord Bal'Win. A pleasure to see you again."

He returned the nod as he settled in his chair, " _Quite, Lord Kylo. And perhaps on this occasion with a measure of correct timing."_

Like with Hussar, Kylo couldn't help but stare at his humble attire and compare the difference to his contemporaries. Kylo had once seen the Lord of Strategy in his royal battle-armor, and it put Praetor's to shame. Yet he never wore it outside its intended purpose, instead always with simple white and gray robes that covered the full extent of his body. In truth, the only real physical sign of his kingship was his golden death mask, forlorn as the man who wore it.

" _You ponder far too much on matters of trivial definition,"_ Bal'win said, staring at him with those pained, piercingly blue eyes wrapped in sickly skin, " _time is a precious commodity. I thought you took to that lesson."_

" _I'd say he has, but he's always had a funny way of showing that."_

The woman's voice was soon matched in the form of a white mask, harsh in shape like a swooping-hawk. It gave the Lady of Vengeance an impression to match the name, as did the piercing crimson eyes and knifing Sith tattoos dotting the twi'lek's red skin.

"And you always have to talk behind my back, Lady Talon? I can answer my own questions, you know."

" _But never well, though. That was never your forte."_

" _Ah, my friends, my friends,"_ a harsh mechanical voice boomed jubilantly as he arrived, " _why do I sense such incredulity? Where is your merriment? Such a meeting is such a painful rarity and should be cherished!"_

" _I would pray make the same comparison to your illustrious elucidations, Lord Mechos,"_ Bal'Win chuckled, " _I dare say it brings warmth to my vitality."_

" _Ah, then I say aspire to greater… elucidations, my friend!"_

"Maybe you should've been a party announcer instead of an Archon, Mechos," Kylo Ren replied.

" _A tempting proposition, my good son! But I will have to pass. Too much work to be done. Yes, far too much."_

Kylo just shook his head at the walking contradiction that was the Lord of the Forge. The Talos Noble was always so damn cheerful, even when he wore the tightly pressed navy-blue uniform more akin to an officer than royalty. Though maybe that was the point. Since escaping genocide in another galaxy, his people had remained in a state of unending war. Perhaps humor was their only means of remaining sane.

Even Mechos, who was the third Archon to rule their Hegemony, didn't hold himself like a king. That much was even reflected in the plume war-helmet he wore. He could imagine a common Sarisai wearing it, if not for the elaborate gildings and the quality rebreather pumping in a higher concentration of oxygen.

In a way, Kylo respected him for that. He was was never separate from his people.

" _Ah, before we begin this meeting proper, I must beg you a question!"_ he boomed, " _The new war-droids we provided for our benefactors? The Reapers, as they call them? How did they fare, my good son? Exemplary, I hope."_

"Well enough. One took a lightsaber to the chest and didn't feel anything."

" _It's a droid, Kylo,"_ Talon deadpanned, " _that's kind of the point."_

" _And that is where you are mistaken, my dear! The great Ether resides in all, especially in the immaterial. All feel measures of pain and joy, just as you and I do!"_

" _Mechos, it's the Force. That is literally what it is called, and it does not flow in robots."_

" _Immaterial! The Ether resides in all! Were it not, our gifts would not be bestowed upon you! Do well to remember this, my dear."_

" _A curious trait I never understood about you, Mechos,"_ Praetor observed, " _you have an overstated sense of importance, and you even take pride in it. Curious for a smithie."_

" _Praetor,"_ Bal'Win whispered, glaring at him, " _there is an utterance the Lady Talon once bestowed upon me. I believe it is in the context of a basin calling a gallipot black."_

" _Ha!"_ Talon chuckled, " _Close enough, old man."_

" _Humorous,"_ Praetor snorted, " _and I notice that our seventh has yet to arrive. Our meeting cannot begin without her."_

" _Bah!"_ Mechos grunted, " _Let the witch be as late as long as she wishes. Perhaps she is chasing yet another farflung fable!"_

" _Chase? I think not. I have caught what I have been looking for,"_ a voice with siren's grace answered as it took physical form, " _I am merely fashionably late."_

Mechos jutted a mechanical finger at her, " _A shame, then. Perhaps it should've consumed you and died of rot. By causality, of course."_

" _And perhaps you should chance upon a dreadful accident within your great forges. I can actually imagine you making a great statue. By causality, of course."_

Before the usual argument could escalate further, Kylo rose to his feet and slammed his palm into the table to bring the matter to hand. "I call this meeting to court. Lady Typhaen, since you have arrived bearing news, speak of what you have found."

The Shii'do's emerald skin glowed jubilantly; the runes in her dragon mask and carapace sparkling with ancient magick as she answered. " _I have discovered the Great Lyviathan in the Azure Arm in the outer reaches. I am bonding with it as we speak. In time, I will bend its mind to my will, and it shall serve us well."_

" _That is excellent news, Lady Typhaen,"_ Praetor replied, " _the Master will be greatly pleased. When shall you both be ready to take to the field?"_

" _In due time, Lord Praetor. This is a delicate matter that cannot be rushed for any reason."_

On the other side of the table, Mechos fumed with absolute disgust. " _You truly believe you can harness this abominable monster, Typhaen? It is an abhorrent abomination of the great enemy that nearly exterminated my people. It should be destroyed."_

" _Objection noted, and summarily ignored,"_ Praetor dismissed, " _the Master looks for every possible advantage in this war, and this is no exception."_

Kylo turned to Praetor, "With respect, Lord Praetor, I would not dismiss his experience out of hand. Do we know if Lady Typhaen even has the capability to control this creature?"

" _Oh ye of little faith, Lord Kylo. Do you doubt me?"_

"Do I need a reason to?"

" _No, you do not. I have conquered the secrets of the Yssalimir. Of the Dathomiri, the Gorgon, and all of the magicks of the Forebearers. This will be no different. In time, its mind and soul will be mine."_

" _I submit again the proclamation that this creature and all others like it should be wiped from the face of this galaxy,"_ Mechos stated, " _Only fools would dare hope in mastering the heretical arts of the anathemac ones."_

" _The Master encourages and demands progress in all fields. Mine is the study of the enemy your people were too weak to handle,"_ Typhaen smirked, " _the one you oh so bravely ran away from."_

A silent rage took hold of the Archon of the Talos Hegemony, signified as four mechanical tentacles topped with the emitters of lightsabers appeared at every corner. Casually, Mechos took the nearest of these and began to tinker with it, his eyes never leaving Typhaen's.

" _You're a child playing with fire, oh Queen of the Ferals. And like any fool who hasn't learned their lesson, it will end up eating you up. I dare say I might even be around to witness such a spectacle."_

The Sith Shaman glared with an aura of indignant fury. Her honed and exotic body tensed with the effort of attempting to subvert it, though her skin radiated from the superlative emotion. Then at the climax, her arm began to transmute. Skin, muscle and fiber shifted unnaturally into rows upon rows of reptilian scales, the fingers tipped with obsidian talons sharp enough to rend steel.

Her lip curled into a cruel smile as she brought them up for inspection. " _Perhaps you should be reminded of your own analogy, Far Outsider. After all, your own fetishes could very well be your undoing, as well as mine as you so generously put."_

" _Lord Kylo,"_ Bal'Win suddenly said, " _you called this meeting to court. I expect the reason for which to be expressed in a timely matter."_

"If the current matter is adjourned?" Kylo asked, glaring at the two antagonistic parties. Reluctantly, they withdrew their provocations and nodded. He continued, "our mission to Takodana was a success. We have the final piece."

Mechos glowed at that, forgetting his murderous mood. " _Then the Forge is ours?"_

"As soon as we return, our cartographers put the map together, and I go out to claim it."

" _Lord Mechos will be accompanying you, then,"_ Praetor commanded, " _as the records suggest, he will be needed to communicate with the ancient networks of the station."_

" _I would have it no other way!"_ Mechos laughed, " _This truly will be a day long remembered in the Parables of the Talos!"_

" _Yes, and if I may speak rather casually,"_ Talon commented, " _I suppose that makes your title a little more literal now."_

" _But of course, and a great honor it shall be! The Rakata were true artisans to their craft. I shall indear to unlocking their secrets and building upon them!"_

" _Yes, the secrets of a bunch of cannibalistic savages who built their empire off the backs of slaves."_

" _An unfortunate candor you must recollect, Lady Talon,"_ Bal'Win replied softly, " _slaves, serfs and workers are the basis from which all society in one form to the next are birthed and built, as detestable as that is. This cannot be denied in its verity, nor can it dissuade us from seeking a natural advantage in the coming war."_

" _I'm not stupid, old man, nor am I stubburn enough to refute that. I'm just not comfortable with us digging this thing out of whatever corner the cannibals stuck it in, especially if it was put there for a good reason."_

" _Your comfort is not our concern, puella,"_ Praetor replied, " _and I hope it does not distract you from our orders."_

" _Did I not just say I wasn't that stupid ten seconds ago?"_

" _You did, and I hope you remember that."_

" _There is something of concern, however,"_ Bal'Win interrupted, " _as I have gandered, the last of these Forges corrupted the very souls of their masters. Calamity followed soon after. Are we of sound certainty the same will not transpire here?"_

" _Immaterial, my friend,"_ Mechos chortled, " _Malak and Revan were little more than foolish children who knew not what they found. They thought it a mere tool. Bah! It is alive even more so than anyone here at this table."_

" _I doubt that,"_ Typhaen snorted, " _a machine is a machine. It possesses no soul, therefor is not living. Nothing will change that."_

"I disagree, Typhaen," Kylo countered, "all the records from the Old Republic indicated these 'machines' were powered by the Force itself. By definition, that makes it alive."

" _With respect, Lord Kylo, is a ship alive because it's crew is? You forget that there are countless organism independent of the Force that are quite plainly alive."_

" _I fail to fathom how any of these quarrels answers my original query,"_ Bal'Win sighed, " _record makes tangible the fact of its corruptibility, and the two of you will be there for a passage of time. Are we certain this is worth the peril?"_

" _To answer your question with finality, yes,"_ Mechos replied, " _unlike our Orders' predecessors, I am quite prepared for my commune with the great machines and its spirits. I suspect they will find me quite the warm company."_

" _If it is corrupted, shouldn't the old man go with?"_ Talon asked, " _He's the only one among us that could… um, well for lack of a better term, purify it."_

Praetor shook his head, " _Even if our counterparts in Intelligence are correct and civil war within the enemy is certain, we must be ready to deliver a decisive blow should things turn away from our favor. Which is why you two are going and the rest of you will carry out your orders."_

" _And where will you be when this invasion kicks off, exactly?"_ Talon asked.

" _Attending to matters of concern to the Master, puella. Matters that do not concern you, or this court."_

"Except they are our concern, Praetor," Kylo replied, "as a Lord of Ren, you are not entitled to keep secrets from this court."

" _Is that so, Lord Kylo? Then I dare ask on behalf of this court a matter that concerns you, then. Since you are so prudent on the matter of secrecy."_

"Stop trying to deflect-"

" _Why is Jedi Master Tekka dead, Kylo?"_

Talon suddenly looked at him sharply and Praetor chuckled, " _Alas, I forgot. You failed to inform the council of that particular development."_

"I was busy at the time."

" _Yes, busy killing a member of the Jedi Order, and a potential lead to their whereabouts. What was your reasoning for such a rash action?"_

"Simple. The Jedi weren't stupid enough to tell him anything."

" _Which we cannot confirm, thanks to you. Just like the Order continues to survive, also thanks to you."_

Kylo's hand tightened into a fist as he growled, "The Master wanted the Jedi out of the way. I just took the literal interpretation of that. He didn't seem to have an issue with that."

" _Perhaps, but it has allowed our greatest threat to continue existing. Much like you dispatching a member of the High Council without consulting this Court first."_

"And wasted our time while you would've ripped out whatever little pointless secrets he had, hmm?"

" _Oh, I can imagine all those historical and archaeological secrets would've been quite informative. It certainly would've made up for our failure in acquiring that information from their archives to begin with."_

"You mean when **you** failed to acquire them because you were getting tossed around by Master Katarn?"

" _A calamity caused by your poor judgement, boy. Had you not deviated from you orders, we would not be in the situation to begin with."_

" _I would be careful to associate all of the blame on his shoulders, Praetor,"_ Bal'Win interrupted, " _I shoulder such in equal tandems."_

" _Yes, thank you for reminding me, Third of Ren. After all, you're the one who let that shuttle full of Younglings escape."_

" _Yes, I did, and I carry no regret over that decision. I would not be party to the slaughter of children, or their protectors. Especially not under your authority, Aquillan."_

" _And need I remind you that less than a generation ago, the Jedi inspired a popular uprising against their own government? Your chivalry is going to cost us dearly, I reckon."_

" _Then I pass on with that knowledge that my soul bears not that particular wicked fruit."_

" _Perhaps. But the difference is that when I pass, the universe will be a better place than when I first came to it. And I am not ashamed of the path I walked to build that better universe."_

"I wonder if that's why you didn't get Primaris' title, Second of Ren."

The air went cold as all eyes went to the Lord of the Praetorians. Hussar growled and made the effort to rise, but Praetor beckoned him to sit.

" _The Master ordered you to receive my brother's title and fleet, and thus it was done,"_ he said after a moment, his voice not even changing a decibel, " _I do not make a habit of questioning his decisions… not even in this matter, First of Ren."_

'But if given word?' Kylo did not ask, "Do you have anything to add, Lord Praetor?"

"None."

"Then it's settled. Lord Mechos will meet me at Vardos, and we will move to take the Forge as soon as we have discovered its location. Everyone else will carry out their own orders."

" _And into war we go,"_ Talon sighed, " _all this talk of superweapons makes me wonder if the Master has a Death Star hidden somewhere."_

" _Puella, we did not kill Sidious just to find ourselves in the same trap as him,"_ Praetor retorted, " _and the Master learned well from his mistakes."_

" _It was not the only mistake Sidious made that ended him in oblivion,"_ Bal'Win countered, his somber eyes turned to Kylo as he spoke, " _we speak of our superiority to Palpatine and his Empire, but without the deeds to mark the integrity of that claim, we will be no better. If we see ourselves the true inheritors of the Sith, then we must earn the right to rule through example. We must strive to be better, with absolute certainty."_

"Only a fool is certain, Bal'Win," Kylo replied wearily, "at the end, all we can do is try."

" _Do or do not, there is no try,"_ Talon retorted as she glared at him, " _Lor San taught us that, remember?"_

"I remember," he turned to the rest, "anything else to address? No? Then I adjourn this court."

They all nodded and one by one disappeared as their signals flickered out, with Talon the last to leave. Her crimson eyes glared into his obsidian with silent intensity.

" _Is our transmission secure here?"_

"Yes."

" _Good,"_ she spat, " _where is she?"_

"Safe."

She shook her head at him, " _You're an idiot, you know that?"_

"So I've been told."

She scoffed at him, " _I accepted the reason you being here. I even offered to help you when the time came. But you've taken things too far!"_

"Really? Says the woman who wants to commit genocide against the Hutts."

" _Don't try to deflect this. First you killed our teacher, and now you've taken my sister."_

"For her own protection, Kali."

She stared at him baffled, " _What does that even mean? You brought her into this."_

"Because she's a loose end, and with what I'm about to do, I can't afford her being in the wind. This way, close to me in a place even the Master cannot get to, she'll be out of the way."

" _And what happens if you fail?"_

"I won't."

She stared at him for a long moment, sighing eventually as she sat back in her chair. " _I will keep my promise. But if you endanger her or worse? I will kill you myself."_

"I'm sure."

" _Where is she anyway?"_

"On this very ship. Part of the deal Sydow stuck with Damask was that no one would be allowed to step on this ship without his permission. She'll be safe."

" _For how long, though?"_

"Long enough. Now, don't you have assassins to brief?"

" _I do. Don't make me sic them on you,"_ before she could leave however, she turned back around, " _I wouldn't push Praetor if I was you. He blames you for what happened to Primaris. If the Master gives the word, he will kill you."_

"I know."

She stared at him for a moment, and then she was gone. Kylo sighed in the gloom, and then pulled his helmet off. He stared into the visor reflection, seeing the face he'd grown to hate. The face that bore all the horrors and pain that had brought him here. As he closed his eyes, he heard the screams in the backdrop… and he was reminded of why he was here.

Of what he had to do.

"Soon," he said, pulling his helmet back on, "soon."

* * *

 **Authors Notes**

* * *

This is JSailer and Sqausher. The semester is over and we'll be returning to writing. As you've noticed here, we have reposted Chapter 45. Thanks in part to the recommendations of Terminator-57, we have heavily edited the chapter to make the scene a bit less of a picnic and more so a professional meeting between people who hate each other. We hope this will be an improvement over the last one. On the note of the next chapter, we hope to get it up by the 22nd. However, we shall see with the holiday season. In the meantime, we have a preview of the next chapter here for you. Merry Christmas:

* * *

Pain. That was the first thing that came to Rey's mind as she slowly stirred. A pain like she'd been struck in the head with an axe, soon accompanied by the slow and steady thumbing of a drum in the deep darkness. Ironically, she took the anguish as a comfort; you don't feel pain if you're dead.

She tried to open her eyes, but the sweet darkness was replaced by a piercing light. She immediately shut them, suddenly conscious of how cold and even numb she felt. It was as though she was in water, unable to move or to breathe or…

She heard something. A voice. She couldn't make it out yet, but it was there. It was speaking to her, and she focused on it like a lifeline. She pulled on it, mentally yanking herself out of her unconscious state back into the living. She tried to say something, but she couldn't hear her own words. She couldn't even remember what she had said.

"Where… am I?" she tried again, finally hearing how hoarse she sounded. What had happened?

"Safe," the voice said again, heavy and reverberated. She had heard that voice before, but where? Then she remembered.

"No!" She gasped, suddenly coming fully awake. The piercing light was there again a moment, making her eyes burn. Panic took her when she realized she couldn't move her arms or her legs. Something was holding her down!

"Easy…" the voice soothed, a cold leather hand moving across her brow, "let me help you."

She felt at ease suddenly. It was sweeter than a shot of morphine. Purer. The pain disappeared, and reluctantly she began to open her eyes again. Everything was blurry at first, the light still there. Then something move between them, a shadow coming over her. She focused, and her heart sank when the image became clear.

"You," she said.

"Yes, me," Kylo Ren answered.


	48. Chapter 41 - Bitter Reunion

**Chapter 46 - Bitter Reunion**

* * *

 **Hyperspace**

 ** _Providence-_ Class Cruiser _Scarlet Night_**

* * *

Pain. That was the first thing that came to Rey's mind as she slowly stirred. A pain like she'd been struck in the head with an axe, soon accompanied by the slow and steady thumbing of a blood pumping in the deep darkness. Ironically, she took the anguish as a comfort. You don't feel pain if you're dead.

She tried to open her eyes, but the sweet darkness was replaced by a piercing light. She immediately shut them, suddenly conscious of how cold and even numb she felt. It was as though she was in water, unable to move or to breathe or…

She heard something. A voice. She couldn't make it out yet, but it was there. It was speaking to her, and she focused on it like a lifeline. She pulled on it, mentally yanking herself out of her unconscious state back into the living. She tried to say something, but she couldn't hear her own words. She couldn't even remember what she had said.

"Where… am I?" she tried again, finally hearing how hoarse she sounded. What had happened?

"Safe," the voice said again, heavy and reverberated. She had heard that voice before, but where? Then she remembered.

"No!" She gasped, suddenly coming fully awake. The piercing light was there again, making her eyes burn. Panic took her when she realized she couldn't move her arms or her legs. Something was holding her down! What was-

"Easy…" the voice soothed, a cold leather hand moving across her brow, "easy. You're okay. Just breathe, nice and easy. Breathe."

Despite herself, she listened to the voice. Calm took her, and eventually the pain became a manageable dullness that slinked into the back of her mind. Reluctantly she began to open her eyes again. Everything was blurry at first, the light still there. Then something moved between them, a shadow coming over her. She focused, and her heart sank when the image became clear.

"You," she whispered as an all too familiar mask came into view.

"Yes, me," Kylo Ren answered, seated across the room in a chair and looking at her expectantly. For a long unbearable moment, she waited to see what he would do, but he did nothing. He just sat there, staring at her.

She let her eyes roam the room for a moment, realizing that she was strapped down to a table and that those straps were leather. She didn't smile though she wanted to, and she was glad she didn't. She tried to tap into the Force, to will it to release the strapping but it didn't respond. All Jedi could hear the call of the Force, but it was though she was in a vacuum with no sound save for her own voice. How?

She heard an all too familiar hiss, and she saw why sticking its tongue out at her. She grimaced at her captor, "You afraid to be in here with me without an Yssalmiri?"

"Only an idiot isn't afraid, Jedi," he answered casually, "and I'm not an idiot. If I didn't have him in the corner, you'd be gone in seconds. And I really can't have that."

"What do you want with me, then?" she asked, swallowing to keep the fear out of her voice.

"Nothing."

She looked at him strangely, "Nothing? Then why am I here? Why am I strapped to this table?"

"Because you're my prisoner?"

"That's not funny. Why did you come after me in the forest if you want nothing from me?"

"Do you want the truth?" he sighed, rising to his feet, "Because I want you out of the way, but I don't want you dead. Simple enough?"

"Not really," she replied, "the simplest solution to me being out of the way is to just kill me. But you didn't, which means you want something from me. Otherwise, I wouldn't be alive."

"Wow," he said, crossing his arms, "I forgot how difficult you could be. Can't be gracious of the fact you're alive. Oh no, you have to know why. Why, why and why."

Rey had fought Sith before, but this man was nothing like them. His behavior completely caught her off guard, and induced a growing feeling of unease. She played along, putting on a casual face, "Well, is **why** such an unreasonable question?"

"It's an annoying one."

She smirked, "It annoys you? Maybe I'll keep asking you that, then."

"Or I could gag you and leave you alone with forked tongue over there."

"No you won't," she said, looking at him again strangely, "you could've, but you haven't. And I haven't asked the most important question yet."

"And that is?"

"Why are **you** here?"

"Good question, for once," he replied, shaking his head for a moment, "I guess because I wanted to talk to you. Because I've wanted to talk to you the moment you got involved in things. And I wanted to talk to you alone, away from anybody who wouldn't… understand."

She nodded slowly the feeling of unease gripping like a pit in her stomach. But it wasn't fear for her safety. It was fear of what she thought might be true. She swallowed, and asked the one question she'd been dreading to ask, "Who are you?"

"You know who am I, Rey."

She nodded again, closing her eyes to hold back her tears. "Show me," she whispered.

"As you wish," he replied, his hands taking hold of the helm and removing it with a hydraulic hiss. Rey's heart sank when she saw the face she'd been dreading.

"Cale."

He stiffened slightly at the name, but answered with a slight smile, "Yes."

Aside from the slight scars on his chin and cheek, he was exactly as she remembered. His mother's dark brooding eyes; his father's winning smile. The kind, heroic faith that once oozed a scoundrel's confidence. Even the crumpled, devil-may-care hair that would've looked odd had he combed it. Exactly as she remembered… and not.

There was always a kind of darkness behind those eyes of his. But here, she could read all the pain and rage plainly. Yet there was something else there, something she suspected the moment she found herself on this table. Loneliness.

"Reading my face, are you?" he asked suddenly with that casual smile of his. Despite the moment, she shrugged.

"I can't really do anything else. I'm kind of stuck here at the moment."

"Funny," he chuckled, but his eyes were serious, "I'm not going to untie you, if that's what you're going to ask next."

"I didn't think so. You're not that stupid... yet."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Cale," she leaned forward, her eyes almost pleading, "I know what you did, and I know why you're here. You don't have to pretend anymore. Not with me."

"Oh, I see. You got to talking Shrike, hmm?" he shook his head with a scoff, "Let me guess, he told you that I went under? That I'm secretly working for the good guys, right?"

She didn't reply, but her eyes did. He sighed, "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Rey, but I'm not working for anyone but myself. Not for Shrike, not for the Jedi. Not even for the Sith."

"Really?" she asked, gesturing around, "Then why all of this? Why help the enemy get the Forge?"

"It's all part of the plan. Everything that I've done has been to get me in the same room with the High Marshal. To get a personal audience. But he hasn't made it easy for me. Not really a big surprise, it took a lot to convince him that I wasn't here to kill him."

"Yes," she drawled, "when you handed Takodana over to the enemy? When you betrayed everyone you ever cared about? Your own family?"

"Now I'm disappointed you. I thought you knew what I did and why I'm here."

"I'd hoped it was more than that," she sighed, closing her eyes as she did, "but this? All of this? You've gone too far."

"Recent events suggest otherwise."

"Oh, would you listen to yourself!?" she shouted at him, "How can you stand there and justify everything you've done? You killed our teacher. You tortured Poe. You've helped the enemy find a weapon that they will use to terrorize the galaxy… and for what? To avenge your master? What would she think of what you've done?"

"This isn't about her, Rey. Not anymore."

She stared at him utterly speechless. "What does that even mean?"

He sighed, all the color and life draining from his face. He rose from his chair, pacing the room as he began somberly. "When I volunteered to infiltrate the Knights of Ren, I did it with the clearest of intentions. I was going to expose them. I was going to find the one who ordered my master's death, and I was gonna kill him. I would do whatever it took, but I was determined to see things through."

Then he stopped, looking at her strangely. "Did Shrike tell you about Lor San's theory?"

She nodded, and he asked, "Did he also tell his own theory? That his boogiemen, that these Sith were behind every calamity, every single threat that has ever come after the Jedi?"

"Yes," she answered, "and considering what I've seen the First Order do to accomplish its goals, it wouldn't surprise me."

"Then it must surprise you that he was wrong."

It did, and she scrutinized him for a moment. "And let me guess, they told you this?"

"No. My station as a Lord of Ren has long since given me access to that sort of information, and do you want to know what I found? They have never been involved. Not with Lumiya, not with the Imperial Remnants, not with the Chimera or Marka Ragnos. Not even with Antiga. There is no invisible hand puppeteering events, no Palpatine to blame."

"I can buy some of those, but I refuse to believe that the First Order had nothing to do with Antiga. They gained quite a bit of a territory with that conflict."

"You misunderstand. The First Order was, but not the Knights of Ren. Not the Sith."

Rey raised an eyebrow, "That's not… what?"

Cale shrugged, "I was surprised too. But I would have thought FN-2187 would've explained the difference between the two. After all, Shrike has a way of making people talk."

"Finn did explain it."

"Oh, is that his name now? Poe's doing, I would guess. He always did have a funny sense of humor. A fish out of water."

"Hilarious. But there's one thing wrong with that assessment. You all answer to the same person. By extension, the Sith were involved on Antiga."

"And you mistake Damask for Palpatine."

"No, he's just the man who created him!"

"So we think, and that does not make them the same person. Let me explain something very simple to you. I am a Lord of Ren. I command a fleet of warships and a fiefdom of Sith. I answer to no one except the Master, and yet he does not make a habit of commanding me. For this reason, as I expected Finn to tell you, the interests of the First Order and the Knights do not always align. Why else was Finn's former commander sent to accompany me when I was sufficient?"

"What's your point, Cale?"

"Let me show you."

He produced a remote and pointed it to the far wall. It split apart, revealing a holo-receiver that switched onto the main HoloNet channel. Images and scrollers began popping up, revealing a blockade of New Republic warships orbiting a world. The headline read " _Mandalore under Siege!"_

" _...the 7th Fleet continues to ground all traffic coming in and out of the system,"_ the spokesperson said, " _minutes ago, Manda'lor Wren issued the following statement."_

The image shifted to a recording of an aged Sabine Wren, Mandalore the Arbitrator. Her face was tired, her hair picking up more white hairs since the last time Rey had seen her. But her eyes blazed with the same ageless fury that added spirit to her voice as issued out her proclamation:

" _Sons and daughters of the New Republic, I feel inclined to remind you of a simple truth. Mandalore stood as one of the founding worlds of your government. We shed the same blood, shared the same losses in the war against the Empire. All to secure freedom and justice for all in the galaxy._

" _Yet there are those who would deny this simple truth. Those who would call the heroes who won you your freedom traitors. Who would persecute the innocent, the patriotic and the dutiful; all without a shred of proof or lawful proceeding. Those who would abuse our Federal System to preserve their own power, all the while ignoring the threat that lies at our door._

" _For this, I say that this will not stand. Hera Syndulla is no traitor. She was the Commander of the first fleet of the Rebel Alliance. She recognizes the danger the First Order and Chancellor Borealis' administration poses to your freedom. For this, Borealis calls her traitor! Her and all those who dare speak up for the massacre of the Jedi and the countless others taken from us by Imperial aggression._

" _Sons and daughters of the New Republic, this much I vow. If Borealis wishes war against those who stand to preserve the Constitution and Sovereign Rights of Sector and Citizen; if he wishes to cast his allegiance to those who would deny us our very right to exist, then I say onto him: you will find us ready and waiting."_

The image cut out, the Spokesperson continuing:

" _The Executive Representative had this to say on the Manda'lor's latest outburst."_

" _Manda'lor Wren has overstepped her bounds as Sector Governor, and is playing martyr to deflect the fact she is harboring a fugitive from New Republic Justice. The Constitution she claims to defend makes plain that an issued warrant of the High Court supersedes her authority. A warrant that charges Hera Syndulla with Sedition and Treason for attempting to use her fleet to provoke a war with the First Order._

" _If she refuses to abide by the law she swore to defend and allow for Syndulla's innocence to be determined in Court, then the Executive Office will take the appropriate response. That response will be determined by the Manda'lor herself. In other words, the ball is in her court now."_

The HoloNet Spokesperson came back on, reporting: " _Additional fleets have been rerouted to the Mandalorian Sector. It is unknown if Martial Law will be declared. An emergency session has been called for Special Executives to vote on the issue. Early estimates report however that they may vote in the Chancellor's favor-"_

Kylo switched the Holo-Receiver off, "Well, Sabine hasn't lost an ounce of her fire."

"She's a Mandalorian She's always been feisty," Rey sighed, "but why did you show me this?"

"To show you the true face of the republic you serve. A republic that would sooner turn on its own heroes and defenders than grow a spine and tell their enemies 'No.' All in the name of preserving peace. And those who would dare speak out against them are likewise labelled traitors, warmongers,and malcontents. That is the New Republic you protect."

"It's never been about serving the government!" Rey snapped, "It's always been about protecting the people-"

"The people, the people, the people! I have heard that argument a hundred times, and you know what I have to say that? TO HELL WITH THEM!" Cale snarled, before he took a shuddering breath to calm himself, "When has the people ever done anything to earn our loyalty, really? After all, a government is just a body of beings voted in by the people. They serve their interests."

"I think Sabine would disagree with you-"

"And they call her traitor, Rey! One of the few people who works to preserve the freedom and security of those who granted her the right to carry the Darksaber, and they call her a Traitor!

"Then the problem is the corruption in the federal government, not with the people-"

"Which begins and ends with the people! A people who did nothing when the Outer Rim was taken by pirates and criminals! A people who did nothing when countless worlds languished under the Remnant! Who did nothing when Antiga descended into anarchy! And who did nothing when the Jedi were destroyed!"

He sighed exhaustively, shaking his head at it all, "The point I wanted to show is that this was not the Sith's doing. This wasn't even the First Order's doing. This is the doing of a populace that has lost the will to fight for its freedom. A populace that would gladly sell itself over for the promise of security and being told that everything is alright."

He turned to her, his eyes blazing with a cold conviction, "You asked me why I am doing all of this. Why I would aid our enemy in their objectives. Because it's time the New Republic got its wake-up call."

"And your solution is to start a war and get billions of people killed?" Rey asked in horror and disbelief, "Because that is exactly what you are doing! You are playing with fire, and it will burn down this entire galaxy! The innocent, the guilty? They will all die because of this!"

"So you agree with me? That they've lost the will to fight and exist?"

"No, they will resist you. They will fight you."

"Good, because I want them to. I want them to prove me wrong."

"And this is the best way to do that!?"

He shrugged, "Not much else I can do with the idiot and his army of bureaucrats in charge. Something this entrenched has to be cut out at the roots, and that can only be done is with swift and decisive action. It will take war, Rey. Just as it did with the Rebel Alliance."

"Don't you dare compare yourself to them."

"And why shouldn't I? This is no different than the Old Republic. Yes, Palpatine may have engineered the Clone Wars, but it was the people of the Galaxy that voted him in. Who allowed him to erode their freedoms until the Republic was the Empire in all but name. Who stood by and clapped when he declared the dictatorship and destroyed the Jedi."

"It's not that simple-"

"Yes it is. The Jedi were the ones who saved the Republic from the Neo-Crusaders, the Sith, and Zakuul. The ones who brought it out of the Galactic Dark Age. The ones who ushered in a golden age that lasted a mellennia… and how did they repay them? By turning on them. Cheering at their deaths."

"And it was the same people who rose up against Palpatine!" Rey shouted at him, "The same ones who stood by our side when the Chimera came to power! The same ones who stood by our side against the Sith, the Neo-Crusaders and the Zakuul! The same ones who will stand by us again to fight you!"

"But that is not enough, Rey. Oh yes, they can stand by us because they need you, but what happens when they don't? You see, deep down, they hate you just as much as they hate me. Because we can do things they can't. Because we were chosen to wield power, and they weren't. And they resent us for that."

"You're starting to sound like C'Boath."

"C'Boath was a lunatic, who wanted to dominate the galaxy, Rey. Me? I'm just a realist. I have no desire to rule or dominate anybody. But what I want is to expose their hypocrisy for what it is. I want them to realize that they need you. That they need the Jedi. They need people who can do extraordinary things they can't. I want them to face the ugly truth that everything that happens is because of them and their joke of a morality."

"At what cost, Cale?" Rey pleaded.

"Whatever it takes, Rey. There can be no more half measures. Luke and Lor San tried it their way. Tried to pull people out of their self-created ignorance. But what they don't understand is that people do not change unless they're forced to. Until they are faced with such horror that they find their nobler selves."

"And how many people have to die for that? How many innocents who just want to live their lives in peace have to die for your idea of a better world?"

Cale stood there for a moment, before he answered softly. "I don't see any other way."

"That's because you're not looking hard enough! You're taking the quick and easy path! No different than Palpatine or Vitiate! Oh sure, they had their perfect world and they tried to force it on everyone whether they wanted it or not. Because in their minds, there was no better alternative than their perfect little world."

"Don't you dare accuse me of being some power-hungry lunatic with a god complex! I would love nothing more than to leave them alone, but they never get the message! We bleed the same as them, and we die just like them! Why can't we be allowed to live like them?"

"Because of the people you serve, Cale. How can they not see us as a threat when you bring a galactic war on their heads? Besides, by your recollection, every example you provided seems to lead to the same repeating cycle. How will this be any different?"

"Easy. Before, the Jedi were there at the door, ready to fight off the big bad Sith before they could even get in the house. But not this time. The Jedi won't be there to stop them from entering. The people themselves will now have to fight to save themselves. They will finally be forced to confront the Sith."

"Cale, they've always done that-"

"With the Jedi at their front. Never once have they ever had to contend with the Sith without the Jedi there. Not even during the Rebellion. They had people like Kanan, Ezra, Kota… Ahsoka," he breathed slightly and continued, "but this time, they will fight alone. And they will beg, **beg!** For Jedi to come and save them."

Rey shook her head at him. "Cale, is this because of her? Are you just angry at the galaxy for Ahsoka? How would she feel about this?"

"It doesn't matter what she feels, because this is bigger than just her death. This is about ending a cycle that gets good people like her killed. You know that I'm right. You may disagree with my methods, but you know that what I'm saying is true."

"Yes but this is the wrong way to do it. There has to be a better way than this," she shuddered then, struggling to hold back her tears, "I know that you're angry. Force-knows, I know. But this is taking it too far."

"Force is the one thing that causes change, more than any other factor. And force, Rey, is violence. The supreme authority from which all other authority derives."

He sighed wearily, slumping back into his chair. His face grew gaunt, almost ghoulish in appearance. When he looked up at her again, his eyes were red with withheld tears. "Rey, I don't want this to be true. I don't want to kill anyone. But unless something is done, history will just repeat. And one day, there won't be any Jedi left. There won't be any good people like you or my master left. I wish there was a better way. But I don't see any other way."

She couldn't hold back her own tears anymore. She let them fall, her voice quivering with sorrow. "There is always a better way. You just have to find it. You just have to look hard enough."

"I can't do it… but maybe together we could," his eyes lit up as he rose and walked over to her. Cold leather brushed against her cheek and over her ear as he stared into her eyes, pleadingly. "Rey, we have done so much good together over the years. We can do it again. Join me, and we can put the galaxy right. Make things the way we want them to be."

For precious seconds, she was tempted. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps together they could find a way to save the galaxy. Was it any different than what they had with Marka Ragnos? With the Outer Rim and Antiga? She shook with the indecision. She'd made it her mission to save him. Was this the way to do it?

"No," she whispered, "I'm sorry, Cale, but I can't. I can't stand by and let you do this."

"Why?" he begged, his voice cracking, "You've seen the same things I have. We've fought the same evil. Why can't you understand the truth of things?"

"Because I am a Jedi, like my father before me. Because I look at you, and I see someone who deep down knows what he's doing is wrong. Why else did you bring me here, debate with me? Because you want to be convinced that you are wrong. But I don't think I can convince you. I've never been good at that sort of thing."

"It's not about words, Rey. It's about conviction. And you were the best of us. Not me, not even Ben. You."

"You sell me too high."

"Not high enough, and that's the problem. You won't waver. I wish the galaxy had a million people like you. Then we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with."

"I still believe in people. I think they're better than you give them credit for, and they will prove you wrong. But there is another way," she craned her neck, bringing his face so close to hers that their noses touched, "let me go, and come with me. It's not too late to stop this, to set things right. I know you want to. Why else did you bring me here?"

Cale looked to the side as he closed his eyes, "There is no going back for me. I'm too deep into this, I've done far too much. It's too late for me."

"No, it's not. It's never too late. Vader did far worse and he still had a chance."

Cale shook his head in sorrow, tears streaming down his face before he opened them again, "But I'm not Vader."

He donned his helmet with a hiss, exiting the cell, "Thanks for the talk. You'll be kept here until after I deal with Damask. Then you'll be released."

"You shouldn't have brought me here," she said suddenly, causing him to turn back to her, "you should've just left me on Takodana."

"And why's that?"

"Because after this, I'm not going to stop coming after you, Cale," she replied, "and if you want to stop me, you're going to have to kill me. Right here, right now. Because I will never stop until I take you down."

"You're welcome to try, Rey. Because I will not let you or anyone else stop me."

"Why don't you tell that to Tionne? To Lor San's daughter while you're at it?"

Kylo glared at her for that. He clenched his fist, almost made the effort to walk right back into the room but he stopped himself. Wordlessly, he spun on his heel and marched for the door. He gave one last look at her, and let the door close behind him.

* * *

A minute later, Kylo Ren was in the turbolift, Rey's parting words opened a deep wound in his mind. He couldn't get it out of his head and when the words became too much for him, he slammed his fist into the wall with a roar of rage.

The metal crunched on impact, his fist lodged there for a moment as he snarled, "Damn that woman."

He removed his hand, feeling the sting of the cuts on his knuckles. Kylo took a deep breath to calm himself, shuddering as he did. He shook his head, "No… she doesn't deserve that. But the mission isn't over."

The elevator pinged and the doors opened.

"Soon," he whispered, "Soon…"

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

* * *

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Squasher. Just as a reminder, we have switched our uploading days to every other Monday. So, the next chapter will be uploaded January 6th. I'd like to thank **Terminator-57** for his honest and consistent reviews and **DarthVerus** for understanding why we had to delay uploading a few weeks ago. We hope you enjoy this chapter, we certainly did writing it.


	49. Chapter 43 - Eve of War

**Chapter 47 - Eve of War**

* * *

 **Vardos**

 _ **Resurgent-**_ **Class Star Destroyer** _ **Ravager**_

* * *

Under the reign of the Empire, Admiral Ramius Hux had received the visitation of the Sith on several occasions, most from members of the Imperial Inquisition though once was even from Darth Vader himself. In every one of those visits, they'd been expected to clear the Hangar receiving them and to have at least a company of soldiers as a standing ovation.

In those days, a much younger Hux always silently berated this inefficient ego stroking. His men had better things to do than to stand around for some pompous state sanctioned sorcerer who existed outside the chain of command and therefore were not legally required to do so. Yet, the word of the Emperor's servants was effectively the word of the Emperor himself.

Hux allowed himself a satisfied smirk as the pirate LAAT Gunship touched down in his hangar. He'd outlasted all those fools, and he would not stand for a fool's 'tradition.' For that reason, the hangar was still buzzing with activity as his men set about their specific tasks, and he was awaiting Kylo Ren with only himself and his medical officers.

His men had better things to do than to stand around for some state sanctioned sorcerer, especially when they were mere hours from potentially going to war. Though he suspected Kylo Ren didn't care for that sort of thing, and it made him wonder what the Empire would've been like with someone like him in command instead of Sedriss or Vader.

"Admiral Hux," Kylo Ren addressed as he exited the transport and marched up to him, "our mission was successful."

"I assume as much," he replied, eyeing the grav-stretcher leaving the transport. He sighed and gestured for the medical crew to take possession of it from the pirates.

"She'll live, sir," Kylo said suddenly, catching his eye, "Sydow gave her the best care he had on hand."

'He'd had better,' Hux didn't say. Instead, he just nodded. "And we have the missing piece?"

Kylo pulled a datacard from his robes and handed it to him. Hux held it delicately, the weight that this single, fragile thing held the fate of his government and the galaxy firmly settling on his shoulders. "I'm a little surprised you didn't just send it to us remotely. It would've saved some time."

"Admiral, our work over the last several years all hinges on the contents of this disk. I didn't want to take the chance some other prying eyes seeing the transmission go through. Better to give it to those we can trust."

Hux nodded, his earlier question redoubling without a clear answer.

"I understand perfectly, son," he said at last, "I will have the information taken back for analysis. Assuming the Rangers did their part in things, we will have what we need in a few hours. One other thing, your colleague arrived a few-"

"I know," Kylo groaned as the door behind them opened and an overly cheerful, mechanical voice rang out:

"My good son! How are you? Ah, you come bearing gifts!"

"Oh no," Hux heard Kylo breathe as Mechos Ren, adorned in his blue uniform and battle-plate crossed the distance and enveloped his fellow Lord in a monsterous bear hug. Kylo was lifted off his feet as Mechos' cybernetic limbs drove the breath from him, his back curling as the sound of joints and bones popping rang painfully loud.

Hux had to resist chuckling as Kylo groaned, "N-nice to see you, too… Mechos?"

"Yes, my good son?"

"Let me go. My spine is going into my spleen."

"Oh, I am so very sorry!" Mechos laughed heartily as he set him down, brushing off some imaginary dirt from his fellows robe, "It is merely the fact we have not chanced each others company in so very long. Makes me quite happy."

"We talked hours ago," Kylo panted.

"But I mean in the flesh, my good son, in the flesh. A mere holo-graphic communique is not a sufficient alternative."

"If you say so, Mechos," Kylo looked behind Hux and gestured, "and you've brought your Magi, then?"

Hux turned to observe the red and gold robed individuals, each adorned in respirator masks with a pair of mechanical limbs poking out from their backs.

"But of course, Lord Kylo!" Mechos boomed, "They shall helped me commune with the great spirit of the Forge! Turn its will into our employ!"

"Just so long as it doesn't cause any of you to turn into another Malek, we'll be fine," Hux said, causing the two lords to look at him strangely. He merely shrugged, "I can read."

"Your sense of humor is welcomed, Admiral," Mechos chuckled, "it is a commodity far too rare in my humble opinion. Also, with your permission, I would like to take possession of the starmap and the existing fragments we possess in the record. My Magi can decypher and merge them faster than your cartographers… no offense meant to them, of course."

Hux had worked with Mechos before, but it still surprised him how polite the man was. An Inquisitor would not have asked permission, and Vader would've expected it before he even arrived.

Hux nodded and handed him the datacard, "Permission granted, Lord Mechos."

Hux caught Kylo shooting Mechos an odd look. The Talos merely laughed, "My friend, always build a good rapport with those you meet. You might require their aid later."

"Unless they're shape-shifting Gorgons?"

"That witch is the exception, and I am certain the feeling is mutual."

"Mechos, I didn't realize you had a wife." Hux commented.

The Talos spun and glared at him, "I do, and I am deeply offended you associate her with such filth."

"Apologies," Hux chuckled, "your comments reminded me of my late wife."

"You have my sentiments, Admiral. My Magi and I shall be in your data-archive. If you require assistance in other regards, I shall answer."

With that, he and his entourage turned to leave. After he was gone, Kylo shook his head at Hux, "Admiral, you may have been the first person outside of Typhaen to spur such a reaction out of him. I'm surprised he didn't take it personally."

"That does sound like my wife, and that was on purpose, Lord Kylo. I don't trust anyone who works in extremes, even one as cheerful as Mechos. It usually means there is something wrong with you."

"Noted. Have my quarters been prepared?"

"They are as you left them."

"Thank you, Admiral. Until Mechos is finished with his work, I don't want to be disturbed."

With that Kylo made his leave, and Hux watched him go.

'How things change,' the admiral thought quietly, 'and how they don't.'

* * *

Some minutes later, Hux found himself back in his office with a shot of Corellian ale balanced in one hand, a dataslate in another, and a pile of holo-reports in the other. He wasn't conscious of the time, he had too much on his mind to think of that. He flipped through preparation reports and read them with practiced ease; his eyes taking in the flurry of activity and data-streams.

There was a knock at the door. "Come," he said.

Captain Canady walked in, and Hux's dataslate changed to a med-bay. He was at first confused as to why until he saw who was in it. He looked up and asked, "Her status report?"

"You pick them well, sir. They inform me that she'll live, granted she'll need extensive cybernetic rework."

The admiral's fists clenched and turned white as he growled, "They're not going to turn her into one of Krennic's old Dark Troopers, are they?"

"No sir, she'll be human. Well, mostly. But she'll live."

"Good. Borodin, can you spare a moment?"

His old friend smiled and nodded, "If you can spare that ale, Ramius."

After Canady seated and poured a glass, Hux began. "I need to confess something, Borodin. I am afraid. History is repeating itself."

"You mean with us returning to Jakku, and the fate of our government resting on a single battle? I don't blame you. It stinks of Endor."

"Yes, yes it does, and I suppose that's the problem for me. At Endor, we had the advantage of position, numbers and surprise… and yet we lost. At Jakku, we were evenly matched and had yet again position at our disposal, and that only guaranteed a stalemate. A bloody stalemate."

"I would disagree, Ramius. We won that battle, and we secured the future of the Empire Reborn."

"Yes, a future of hiding like rats while my son blows up a building like a coward," he shook his head, "Canady, why do we fight this war?"

"To make a better galaxy, Ramius, and I know what you're going to say next. The difference between us and the Empire is that we know what we want. Palpatine didn't."

"I'd say he did, or at least that was what was reflected in his followers," he poured them another shot, "I still remember the madness in Lord Inquisitor Sedriss when he made that trap for Skywalker," Hux watched Canady's eyes run to his cybernetic limb, "so full of revenge, of anger. His actions almost cost us that battle, and I lost a perfectly good _Executor_."

"I remember, Ramius. But I don't think that is what we have now."

"Heh, you always did have a way of reading my thoughts. Elaborate."

"Well, I don't know Lord Kylo personally. Then again, I didn't know Sedriss or even Vader personally either, so I suppose that point is moot. Regardless of that, they're not the same."

"They are Sith, though."

"And we are both officers of the Navy, yet we are not the same."

"Yes, I suppose," he took a sip and sighed, "I asked a question to myself earlier when Lord Kylo brought us the map. I guess because I compared him to Vader and Sedriss, and I suppose by extension the Emperor. If the Knights of Ren had existed in their stead, would things have been different?"

"That depends on what you mean. In the system we have now, or the system we had back then?"

"I hadn't really thought about it, but that does make sense. What we have now only exists because of what we learned."

"The Reek or the Egg, then? To answer your question… I really don't know. Perhaps things would've been different, maybe better. Or perhaps things would've turned out the same. I think the issue is that we are not the Empire, nor are we in the same position as we were thirty years ago."

Hux smiled at that. "That's the thing that is bugging me, then. We don't know, just like we don't know how this war will turn out with them at our side. The Sith led us to ruin, but these are not the same. But does that matter?"

"I think you think too much, sir," Canady chuckled, "better not to think, just do. Make things easier. Take things as they come."

"I'd argue that also is responsible for a lot of our troubles as well."

"Heh, I think when you eventually retire, you should go into philosophy. You're certainly relentless enough."

"And what do you want, Borodin? I've never really asked you that before."

"I want to go home. Not Samara, you understand. But my real home."

"Carida, you mean?"

Canady nodded thoughtfully, "I don't hate New Republic for taking my home. Truth be told, it's doing quite well at the moment. We Caridans serve whoever is at the lead to the best of our abilities. But it has been a very long time since I've been home. I remember when my father took me out fishing. It's quaint, but I do miss fishing."

"Is it worth going to war over? There are plenty of worlds with lakes and oceans."

"There are, but it's not the same, is it?"

"No, I suppose it isn't. Borodin, do you actually think we can do better? Not just better than the Empire, but what there is now?"

"I'm not a politician, Ramius. I just follow orders."

"Yes, but you must have an opinion."

"To be honest, sir, it doesn't matter what I think. This war is inevitable, like two bull Rancors fighting over a mate. It'll happen at some point, even if it doesn't happen today. Better we win it and decide how things should be after. Besides, we're soldiers. We're not meant to think about such things."

"History tells us that soldiers are often king-makers."

"Not this time, sir. We aren't the Empire."

"Let us hope so, then," Hux chuckled as the two men rose, clinked their glasses and finished, "and we have our duties to fulfill. I think it's time I give the speech."

"Does seem like good timing, sir. After you?"

Hux rebuttoned his uniform and the two men made their way to the bridge. The crew even in their busy stations were prompt enough to rise to attention. Hux smiled at them like they were his children, and in truth they were. Phasma had that effect on him.

He bade them back to duty and pulled down the intercom. "Comms, set me to a fleet wide frequency. Thank you," he took a breath, thought about the words he'd made years ago and began:

" _Gentlemen, this is your Admiral speaking. It is an honor to be speaking to you on the eve of our nation's greatest achievement. As you know, in mere hours we will be making way to secure the Star Forge, and in turn secure the future of our children and theirs._

" _However, as you will guess, things will not be so easy. Once more, like your fathers and grandfathers before you, we will be playing the great game with our old adversary, the New Republic. A game of Dejarik, where our wits, training and technology will once again be pitted against theirs._

" _But this time, the game is different. The odds will be greater and more everlasting. No longer will we be striking from the shadows only to be chased away by those who take their orders from glamour houses of Chandrila. This time, we have the advantage, and will not be chased away._

" _This reminds me of the days of Thrawn and Soontir Fel, when the galaxy trembled at the might of our will and strength. They will tremble again as we will secure our rightful place in the galaxy. And perhaps in time, we will be sailing for the Core, for Coruscant. For our rightful home taken from us. Your father's dream of the Empire Reborn shall be achieved by you, and you alone._

" _Gentlemen, we sail into history. Admiral Hux out."_

No sooner than he was off the comm than the crew began to sing 'Old Imperial Glory.' Hux resisted the urge to laugh as their nationalistic fervor, or just the influence of Sydow and his pirates, took them over. Though he could not help but chuckle when he saw Canady quietly following the choir of their former glory.

On an impulse, he switched to the fleet frequency and his smile lengthen when the fleet followed to their beat as the stars became their audience. It was more than just pride in his heart, but resolution. Here was where the difference between the First Order and the Empire lay: they had faith.

Within hours, they would be departing not to lose like Endor, to bleed white indecisiveness at Jakku. No, they would win… or die trying.

* * *

The music came on over the intercom shortly after the Admiral gave his speech. While its appearance was startling, it was not surprising. The Empire Reborn was on the verge of victory… or so they thought.

In the shadows, calm hands worked at the communication relay that processed incoming and outcoming packets of data, both within the ship and between them. Silent eyes watched these streams coming and going at a consistent rate, finally settling on two. One read in the data-code as _Talos/Info_Sensitive_ , the other was an outbound communique between the _Ravager_ and _Scarlet Night._

The encryption codes in the beginning were sensitive and had taken a year to crack. But now that they were, they were bypassed with relative ease. Of course, after this the First Order would change those codes and it would take time to crack them. But this was the time, and the point of interest.

First, a frequency bouncer was installed on the server line, making it impossible to determine where the breach had occurred and by extension who had done it. Following this was slicing into the data stream itself and uploading a Tydirium Virus. From there, it was merely a matter of piggybacking off of the streams and working inside until the cam-screens came to life.

Two immediately came to focus: the Talos Magi within the _Ravager's_ Server Room and Rey locked away in a prison cell on the _Scarlet Night._ Old Imperial Glory played in the background, and it was ironically calming, allowing the minutes to slowly tick away until finally a message came to the screen.

 _Map collectivization complete. Beginning synchronization procedure. Prepare for package compilation._

A smile crossed the face of the slicer as the stored data-package was copied onto a digital drive. It would take the Magi another hour to complete the synchronization and from there the First Order would make its move. They would get to the Forge, there was no question about that, but they wouldn't be alone for very much longer.

The copied package was rerouted via the transmission relay and sent as an E-communique to two separate coordinates. Each was signed with encrypted callsign _Red._ Once the message was sent, Red turned to the image of Rey and typed in a command: _Execute_Cell Extraction and Containment._

Moments later, the silent image of hydraulics coming to life played out. Rey was jolted awake, the door to her cell opening as her imprisoning table slid across the floor into the next room. Once it came to a stop, the cell doors closed again and trapped the Ysalamiri behind the arma-glass.

However, the Ysalamiri's Force nullification had a range of three yards, and she was still within bubble sphere by less than a foot. Red considered what to do as Rey struggled again to escape her bounds to no avail. She just needed to be moved over by inches, but how?

Red had a thought and typed in the command: _Execute_Drive Servo Detachment._

An exhaust of air blasted out and the table toppled over from its sprocket, Rey landing face first. A silent cry followed, but she was accustomed to pain and used her knees to slowly crawl the needed inches away. The moment she was clear, the table flew into the opposite direction and Rey rose to her feet.

She eyed the camera in the room, and Red pointed it at the door. She nodded reluctantly and made her way to the door.

 _Execute_Door Release._

It unlocked.

 _Upload_Cam-Delay. Execute_Procedure._

With that done, a twenty minute loop began to play over the _Scarlet Night's_ security cameras. The rest was up to Rey alone. She took a last look at the camera, and Red nudged it along. She looked up crossly, then nodded. When she was through the door, the signal was cut and Red was on the move.

* * *

"Admiral, were getting an unknown transmission!" the comm technician called out and Raddus spun in his chair.

"From where?"

"Sir… it's from the Unknown Regions, and the transponder code is Ranger in origin. It's also got some heavy encryption coding for a data-packet. I can't open it."

"Must be one of Shrike's operatives or something. Is he out of surgery yet?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Find out. Open a transmission with the Temple."

"Yes sir."

It took several seconds to patch through, and then several more for it to be cycled through until the wearied and bandaged Ranger Commandant came into view.

" _You just interrupted a very good dream, Fishman. This better be important."_

"I would assume so, pinkskin," Raddus replied dryly, "considering it's from one of your operatives in the Unknown Regions."

Shrike's hazy eyes suddenly snapped open, " _The hell you talkin' about? We don't have any operatives that far out."_

The comms officer quickly explained and Shrike shook his head, " _I don't know who the hell this Red is, but we need to find out. Jakers! Get in here! Transmit our operational codes to-don't second guess me, you schmuck! Just do it!"_

Moments later, the nine-digit access code arrived and was entered. Everyone's eyes widened when the packet opened and spread across the command deck.

"That's... Shrike, what am I looking at here?" Raddus asked.

" _That, Admiral, is a Star Map, and judging by the upper corner there… yup, this is the map they stole from us. And it's been completed. Only it hasn't been properly processed yet."_

"Someone sent us the complete map to the Star Forge? Who?"

" _For once, I don't have an answer, but we need to get this processed pronto. Admiral, send it down here immediately and we'll-"_

"Sir, we're picking up multiple signals here!" the scanning operator reported, "They're coming in via-hyperspace! New Republic Fleet Codes, all of them!"

"Is it the Fifth Fleet?"

"It's… it's a mix of signals, sir. I'm picking transponders from the Fifth, Ninth and Tenth."

That only meant one thing: Ackbar was coming in hot. "Battle Stations! Raise Red Alert, all ships!"

Sirens ran out as signal calls were sent and the bridge crew moved with organized chaos. Raddus turned back to Shrike, "Are the Temples' defenses back online?"

" _Working on it. Get the map down here, but have it copied and moved to one of your ships. We may need it to rabbit out of here."_

"Understood, we'll-"

"Sir, we have incoming!"

Suddenly across the bowline, a massive hole in reality opened and dozens of vessels were pulled through in waves. First the ships of the Fifth Fleet, recognizable with their faded white and red markings reminiscent of the Old Republic Navy. Coming in right behind them were elements of the Ninth and Tenth with blue and yellow markings, their guns screaming after them in pursuit.

"Ensign, patch me into their communications."

"Aye sir."

The intercom crackled for a moment before being replaced by the authoritative bark of a Zabrak, " _That was a warning shot, Ackbar! Power down your ships immediately, or we will open fire!"_

Had Raddus not seen what had happened to Hera, he would not have believed his ears. "That damn Borealis is going to get us all killed. XO, send a signal to the fleet. Close in and intercept the pursuers."

His XO looked at him like he'd gone mad, "You want us to engage our own?"

"They are already engaging our own. We need to stop this before someone gets hurt. Order the fleet forward."

"Yes sir."

The mon-Cala Cruisers came about and began their intercept course.

'Hang on, Uncle," Raddus silently thought, 'just hang on.'

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

* * *

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Squasher. Just as a reminder, we have switched our uploading days to every other Monday. So, the next chapter will be uploaded January 19th. We'd like to thank **Terminator-57,** **Kamen Rider Raika,** and **sweeting** for their reviews. We hope you enjoy this chapter.


	50. Chapter 43 - Five Minutes to Midnight

**Chapter 43 - Five Minutes to Midnight**

* * *

 **High Orbit of Takodana**

 **MC105 Star Cruiser** _ **Intrepid**_

* * *

" _Admiral Ackbar, this is Commodore Blackburn. You are ordered to power down and surrender your fleet immediately. If you do not comply, we will open fire and destroy you. Please stand down."_

Ackbar's XO paled at that expression. "Well, boy sounds like he means it."

" **Boy** is putting it correctly," Ackbar grumbled, "I sincerely doubt there is a single officer from the war on those ships."

"Well, at least he's respectful about it."

"Yes, there is that, Colton. Signal the rest of the fleet. We continue our trajectory towards the planet. Do not engage."

Suddenly, the portside came alive with emerald explosions. They detonated a fair distance away, but the point was clear. Regardless, Blackburn came on again with a frantic edge to his voice: " _That was a warning shot, Ackbar! Power down your ships immediately, or we will open fire!"_

"Admiral, he isn't bluffing," the Colton remarked, "I don't know him, but he wouldn't have been put in command if wasn't serious about his duty. He will attack us."

"And we will not shoot back. We're here to fight the enemy, not kill our own. Continue our course, but once we reach the planet, raise him on comms."

"Why wait, sir?"

"Because if this doesn't work, we need to be in a position of strength. And Shrike fortified this world extensively after the last attack here. We wait until then and-"

"Sir!" his sensor officer reported, "We have New Republic ships approaching from the planet! They're on an intercept course!"

"That must be Commodore Antilles," Colton pointed out.

"No, Antilles doesn't have Mon Cala Cruisers. It's Raddus."

"Raddus? He's not supposed to be here!"

"Nor is all that debris ahead. There was a fight here… and we missed it."

"Admiral!" his comm officer reported, "I'm picking up a hailing signal from the _Sagacity_ to the _Endeavor._ Do you wish me to-"

"Yes Lieutenant, bring it up."

He nodded, and a few seconds later the familiar voice of his nephew came on the air:

" _This is Admiral Raddus of the Sagacity. Commodore, I am ordering you to disengage from your pursuit immediately."_

" _Admiral, I'm afraid I can't do that. I have orders to arrest Admiral Ackbar and you as well, sir. I'm going to have to ask you to stand down and surrender."_

" _For pity's sake, boy, don't be a fool!"_ Raddus snapped, " _You are attempting to arrest the father of the carking Navy himself, and on what? Charges issued by a weak-willed fool who sees us as the enemy!"_

" _Sir, that weak-willed fool is the Commander-in-Chief and was elected by the people to carry out their will in federal matters. You and Ackbar have been charged with moving military assets without authorization and the conspiracy to conduct illegal operations. My orders are clear, and I will carry them out."_

" _Son, let me make this very plain to you. If you continue on your course, you will be forced into lethal action against your own comrades. We will not surrender, not while the real enemy is preparing to make its move against the New Republic."_

" _If you possess evidence of foul play on the First Order's part, then please surrender. Give it to the government and let them settle this."_

" _By the time the government does anything, it will have been too late. They would have taken the Star Forge."_

" _Sir, if you do not surrender, I will be forced to engage."_

" _And so will we."_

Raddus' fleet came about in a wedge formation, intending to cut across the line between Ackbar and Blackburn. The admiral didn't need to be told that his nephew's ships were powered up. The boy was still the same reek seeing red as he'd been all those years ago when he'd illegally formed the Karakana Fleet to fight the Empire.

"Colton," he said suddenly, "signal all ships to halt and bring us about. Power down our shields."

The XO stared at him, but nodded. Ackbar turned to the comm officer, "Lieutenant, begin a general broadcast to all ships in the area."

"Ready, sir."

Ackbar nodded, staring out at the warships ready to atomize each other. At length, he began:

" _Attention all New Republic ships, this is Admiral Ackbar. I understand what has been perceived of my actions. I understand that many of you believe that what you are doing is right, that you are following the orders of your superiors like you trained to._

" _I also understand that many of you are ready to fight for the New Republic, whether that means apprehending me or defending me. But I must ask you this, why have we come to this? We are fellow soldiers, fighting for the same nation that your fathers and grandfathers fought to create. And yet, here we are, ready to kill each other._

" _I understand why the government wants me apprehended. They are afraid. They react out of tragedy, something I know all too well. They see enemies everywhere, and in many ways they are not incorrect. We are faced with the prospect of war, and avoiding it will not prevent it._

" _Our enemies have made their move. You can see the results of that behind me, with the graveyard of warships. I think you can tell that they bear the mark of the Crimson Corsairs. We know who they work for, even if we are too afraid to admit it. The First Order seeks the Forge, and I think we all know what they intend to do with it._

" _However, I will not stand here and let a massacre among us happen, not over me. I will surrender myself if it means preventing blood from being spilled. But I plead with you. Take a moment and consider what you are doing. In the Academy, you were told that under the Empire, authority superseded morality._

" _You were trained to consider your conscience first, to consider your orders for their moral standing. I ask you now to do this, to apply that training and consider your orders. You were ordered to kill us if we refused to surrender, all without a chance to explain our actions. Does this not sound like the Empire?"_

Ackbar nodded and the comm's officer cut the broadcast. Ahead, all vessels had stopped like shocked boys staring at each other. He eyed the clock above, watching the seconds tick down as he waited to see what would happen. Finally, he got his answer.

" _This is Commodore Blackburn. I request an encrypted holo-meeting with all parties present. However, I also request that you and all other ships associated with you power down their shields and weapons while we conduct… negotiations."_

"I agree to this, Commodore. We'll send a signal to Raddus," he turned to XO, "Colton, I will be in the tac-room. The bridge is yours."

* * *

Someone had helped her escape. Aside from obvious springing her from her cell, Rey had noticed at least a half dozen different cameras catching sight of her as she carefully moved from hallway to hallway, avoiding passing pirates. Yet not once was an alarm raised. No one even seemed to have noticed she had escaped.

That must've meant that the cameras had been tinkered with, probably hacked with a video loop. If that were the case, then she only had a small amount of time before the loop ran out or the operators got wise. She had to find a way off the ship, but how?

"I'm tellin ya, Kara!" a voice called ahead and Rey ducked to cover, "This has been the way space combats been for thousands of years! If it was so wrong, people wouldn't be dogfightin' like this!"

Ahead, a pair of Corsair pilots appeared, a man and a woman, and Rey saw that they were kitted out for patrol duty.

The woman shook her head, "Apollo, we live in an era of missiles and torpedoes. Why do always have to close in and engage folk at close range like cropdusters? Just shoot 'em from a system away! Hell, even capital ships should be able to do that!"

Rey had to stifle a chuckle as she moved out of cover and shadowed them.

"Where's the fun in that?! Also, we don't do that because of jamming technology."

"You're tellin' me that we still haven't figured out how to get around that?"

"We did. It's called flying in and blasting them!"

"Flyboys," Rey said behind them, "crimson, black or orange, you're all the same."

"What the-?" the woman exclaimed as they whirled around with their hands going to their sidearms. Rey held up her hand, swiping it to the side.

"You don't see me here. You," she pointed to Kara, "are going to give me your jumpsuit, your boots and your gear. You," she pointed to Apollo, "are going to make out with her once she's done. Trust me, you two need to get it over with."

The two blinked at her, Apollo grimacing, "And why the bloody hell would we do that? She's my sister!"

"Oh… I really misread that. Sorry about that, and this," she plucked their with the Force and slammed them together, dropping them both to the floor. "Really, really sorry about that. Damn mindtrick failed me again!"

She then looked over at their nametags, each reading 'Thrace.'

"Stupid. Real stupid, Rey."

Quickly, she pulled their bodies into a service locker and stripped the woman down. She groaned when she got a good look at the jumpsuit. "Why couldn't I have picked someone who's actually my size?"

A minute later, she locked the door behind her and donned the flight helmet. She was glad it was fully enclosed, especially when she started running into other pilots.

"Kara, where's Apollo?"

"Oh, um," Rey stammered, quickly pulling off the woman's back drawl accent, "got real sick, he did. Doing patrol myself this time."

"Ah, should've stayed off the Sake last night. Couldn't blame him though, considerin' what happened to Ace."

"Yeah," Rey nodded, quickly moving past them and towards the hanger… or at least where she thought it was. In truth, she was more so following other pilots there, but she also started picking up on particular pieces of intelligence amidst some of their belly aching. Namely that the First Order were mobilizing a fleet, that their encrypted channels suggested they may have found **something** , and that the corsairs weren't coming.

Rey pondered at this as she walked, wondering how the corsairs knew the First Order were talking about this **something** or that they weren't being allowed to come along? Neither sounded like given orders, but more like second-hand gossip. So, how did they know?

A few minutes later, she found the hanger. Now came the problem of grabbing a ship without looking suspicious, though that decision was made for her as a squadron head waved her over. Fortunately, only minimal pleasantries were exchanged, namely explaining why Apollo wasn't there, before the squadron began conducting a briefing.

Rey only paid attention so much as it kept attention away from her, instead focusing on the squadron's heavily modified R-41 Starchaser fighters. The problem was that she didn't know which fighter was Kara's.

"Oi, Kara!" an Ugnot engineer called her over from the top of a Starchaser, "Would you stop messin' with yer bloody droid already? This is the third time I've had to tinker with it!"

"The Force provides," she whispered before she shouted back, "listen 'ere you pig-face squatter! I like my droid the way it is! You mess with it again, an' I'll throw a wrench at you!"

"Kara? Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she shrugged, "just mad over Ace is all."

"Hey, I get ya. Look, why don't you come over here and give it a smooth talkin'?"

Rey was glad her flight helmet blocked her smile. With a nod from the Squadron Leader, she trotted over and began to examine the silver plated R4 unit. It beeped cheerfully at her before complaining that 'Quiil' had been messing with its modivator again, asking if she could put it back the way it was. Rey nodded, genuinely saddened by what she had to do. She couldn't have this droid shutting down her craft when she tried to run, so she quietly turned off its personality matrix while tinkering with the motivator.

"Hey Kara!" the squadron leader asked, "Ready to go?"

She gave a thumbs up and climbed inside her Chaser, following the squadron out as they set out for their patrol duties. Rey didn't want to take the chance of ruining her cover with subpar flying, so she had the droid take over while she examined the nav-computer to figure out where she was.

Below, a hive-world in the midst of its night-cycle bustled with activity, namely with its celestial ring of construction platform. The sight of it reminded her greatly of Kuat and Coruscant, and she guessed then that she was above a First Order planet. A shadow passed overhead and she looked up. Ahead, a massive array of First Order ships amassed with supply vessels and transports milling about them.

She thought back to her earlier eavesdropping. All the corsairs would've had to do was look out a window to see the fleet, but the rest of the rumors made her wonder. She asked the droid to pull up the general comm frequency, and she was startled to learn that the corsairs had access to the First Order's channel. She wasn't a slicer, but recognized a backdoor virus when she saw one.

It wasn't perfect, considering the First Order ships were speaking in a kind of lin-code. But she noticed the same set of coordinates appearing over and over again. She asked the droid about it, and it confirmed it was in the outer fringes of the Neutral Zone.

"That must be it. The Forge," she whispered softly, "so do I go and hope that's it, or do I…" she looked out at the fleet of warships ahead, "do I follow them and make sure?"

Both options were dangerous and were equally likely to get her killed. But it she fled and it turned out they weren't going to the Forge, or they had the wrong coordinantes? Any force that got scrambled out may just walk into a trap. There was also the problem that traveling to Takadona would take three times the amount of time to jump instead to the Forge and check. Plus, the Forge was already on the route to Takadona anyway.

"Droid," she asked in her mike, "what's the hyperdrive classification?"

"' _Class 2,'"_ it replied.

"Damn," she cursed. The First Order ships, from what Poe and Finn had described, probably had Class 1's or maybe even better. Unless she left right then and there, it was likely the First Order would get to the Forge before she did and probably stop her from escaping. But if she could confirm the Forge's existence, then jump again and get close enough to get a signal out?

"Droid, load up the coordinates and make the jump now."

Already the other pilots were starting to notice her odd flight patterns, and then she got a fleet wide alert. _Prisoner escape,_ it read, _suspected to be impersonating a pilot!_

"Oi, Kara!" a harsh voice bellowed in her ear, "Or whatever your name is! Ground the fighter or we will blast you to pieces!"

Rey didn't bother responding, already noticing they'd tried relaying directly to her astromech to get it to ground her. Now the fighters closed in, firing warning shots off her prow that made her shields flare madly. Worse, energy signatures from the _Providence-_ Class showed it was getting ready to use a tractor beam.

"Droid!" she shouted, and it chirped success. A moment later, white daggers split the universe apart as reality gave way to the immaterium of hyperspace. Rey prayed to the Force that she'd made the right choice. The fate of the galaxy depended on it.

* * *

Commodore Blackburn's face paled once explanations were made, the proof of things lying in the still processing map hanging in the holographic display. " _Stars… so it's true then? All of it?"_

"I'm afraid so," Ackbar nodded, "while we cannot confirm that Ambassador Hux was behind the Senate bombing, we can however confirm that this map contains the portion that was stolen from Antiles' charge and that it was sent to us from the Unknown Regions."

" _Why would they send this us, though?"_ the Zabrak asked, " _Why give up their advantage over us?"_

"I don't think they did. I think there's someone on the inside helping us. Unfortunately, the Rangers don't have an operative named 'Red,' and I don't believe it's an Intelligence asset either. Otherwise the Chancellor wouldn't have sent you to chase me down."

Blackburn hung his head in shame, " _I was just following orders, sir. I didn't know-"_

Ackbar held up a hand, "It's not your fault, son. The blame falls on the ones who issued your orders."

" _That's not good enough, sir. You were right about conscience, and I never once thought to consider if my order were just. Little better than Imperials my father died fighting against."_

"And yet, here you are."

" _Here I am,"_ he nodded, straightening himself out, " _what would you have of me, Admiral?"_

"Hopefully your assistance in defending the New Republic, Commodore. We face threats on all sides, and we will need brave and decisive men like yourselves if we're going to see this through."

" _I understand, but I want to make something clear with you. I will gladly do whatever it takes to defend our nation, but I will not partake in an overthrow of the civilian government. Installing a military junta runs against why I serve."_

"I have no intention of spilling our comrade's blood, Commodore. When you're asked to fight, you will do so against our enemy. Our true enemy. You will receive your orders shortly."

Blackburn nodded, " _I will need to speak to my men, sir. I can't guarantee they will all cross the line with me."_

"We will jump that nebula when we come to it," Ackbar smiled, "go to your men. Speak the truth. Remind them of their duty. Let them decide for themselves."

" _Thank you, sir,"_ and the Zabrak disappeared from the call.

"Well?" Ackbar asked as new forms suddenly appeared.

" _He's young, idealistic and patriotic, with an impeccable service record"_ Shrike replied as he drew on his pipe, " _military service runs in the blood. I buy it."_

" _I agree,"_ Raddus concurred, " _considering he took great pains to try and get you to surrender, uncle."_

" _The obvious question is his crew,"_ Han added, " _what do we do with the ones that won't 'cross the line?'"_

" _Stick 'em down here,"_ Shrike answered, " _plenty of comfy cell beds just lookin' for some company. Hold 'em here till the chowder-heads on Chandrila get what's what."_

"That's if they do," Ackbar countered, "we were fortunate that Blackburn was young, idealistic, patriotic and part of a military family. I suspect Borealis will send more that are more loyal to the administration."

" _Yeah. Seems like we're in quite the bind here. Got the Forge in the wild with the wannabes two steps from a full tango, a government out to kill us, and a lot of systems that need defendin'. How we go about doin' this?"_

"Assuming Blackburn's forces cooperate, I believe we have enough forces to perhaps cover the former and latter problems."

" _Why not take the full force out and seize the Forge?"_ Raddus asked, " _Combined, we have more than a hundred ships. The First Order wouldn't risk such a large scale engagement over it. Might stop the war before it starts."_

" _After what they've done already?"_ Han retorted, " _They tried to kill my wife just to make things go their way. Hell, Sydow bled his company white just to get the final piece of the map. And considering we got this unprocessed mess what, thirty minutes ago? They're probably already on their way there now."_

" _All the more reason for us to take the entire fleet there. Overwhelm them and take the Forge."_

Shrike grimaced as he relit his pipe, " _Raddus, that ain't gonna stop 'em. Han's right. They've put too many eggs in the pan already not to make the omelet. Say we secure the Forge, we still have the problem of multiple hyperspace lanes and systems that should have fully stocked SDF's guardin' 'em but ain't. All because most of 'em are on siege or lockdown."_

Ackbar nodded grimly as he observed the tactical display, "And even with the possibility of civil war and worse, most of the Federal forces, even the Sector ones, are not fully mobilized. At this rate, with everything spread so thin, it would take weeks to mobilize, and in that time the First Order maybe in a position where we have no choice but to hand over the Forge."

" _I see your point, Uncle. But that still leaves a problem: Borealis himself. Whoever we send out to defend these lanes and systems are going to end up fighting a two front battle. Even with Viscounts at our disposal, that would still be a difficult slog."_

" _Well, you know my answer,"_ Shrike nonchalantly said as he blew a ring, " _I have enough boys on the capital to do what needs to be done. And as soon as Wedge is able, we could take control of system and-"_

" _And start a civil war in the process?"_ Han deadpanned, " _Do you not remember what happened last time you tried that?"_

" _Yeah, we won, reputation notwithstanding. Look, I know it ain't gonna be pretty and it ain't the best option, so I'm open to alternatives."_

"Right now, keeping the New Republic together is more important than getting the Chancellor out. And realistically, this can't be done by the Rangers or else we just confirm everything Borealis has claimed of us."

" _I'm not hearin' alternatives, Ackbar."_

" _What if the Chancellor were to die or at least be rendered unable to command?"_ Raddus piped up, " _It would at least force the security council to choose a successor, considering the Congress is in no state to issue a vote of no-confidence. I'd honestly take Borsk Fey'lya over him right now."_

"That is pushing the bar with treason, nephew," Akbar growled, "and I'm not comfortable with the Bothan finally getting the ability to order me around."

" _What about the Contingency Orders?"_ Han suggested, " _#65 specifically?"_

" _Considered it,"_ Shrike replied, " _it'd take too long, require a vote by the Congress and the Security Council, neither of whom are keen to do that at the moment, and we ain't at war yet."_

Ackbar sighed, "What we need is legitimacy. Even with this map and confirmation of where it came from, that won't be enough. We need definitive proof of what the First Order is doing, and we need a public face that isn't military or paramilitary for that matter."

" _Shrike,"_ Han asked, " _could your spooks spring Lando and the others from Chandrila?"_

" _Could. No guarantees no one ain't gonna die though, and considerin' it's 'paramilitaries' doing it, we're just gonna-"_ someone called from offscreen and he nodded, " _I think we just got us a solution to our problem. Counselor Organa-Solo is up and transmittin'."_

Ackbar watched Han's face light up as a moment later she appeared at the holographic table. She was worse for wear with most of her head bandaged and her arm in a sling, but she was alive and Han had to restrain himself from immediately walking over and embracing her. Ackbar made a note to give them their moment once the meeting was concluded.

"Madam Counselor," he addressed, "I am happy to see you still alive."

" _I am as well, though I wish it was under better circumstances,"_ she then cracked a smile, " _I just hope you aren't plotting something without me?"_

She was quickly brought up to speed and she shook her head sadly, " _There is only way this plays out that doesn't involve the New Republic being torn to pieces. I have to go to Chandrila myself and confront Borealis publically."_

" _Leia,"_ Han's hand took hers, " _you were almost killed the last time you went there, and considering what Borealis has done already-"_

" _I know. But this is the only way. The New Republic cannot survive another coup. If Borealis is to be removed from office, it must be done within the confines of the law. It must be done by the Congress."_

"With respect, Counselor, Borealis is just as likely to arrest you the moment you appear in system. I will assign Commodore Antilles to accompany you to the planet."

" _Gial, I don't want to give off the illusion that I am invader, and bringing warships with me will make me seem exactly that. I must go unarmed."_

"Leia, Borealis wants blood and kind words won't dissuade him. And even with this map, that isn't proof enough of what the First Order is doing. Not decisive enough proof, at least. We need expediency, and moreover we need the support of the people."

" _We broadcast it."_

Everyone at the table turned to Han. " _When we find the Forge, we broadcast everything that happens."_

He brought up the estimated area the Forge was believed to be in, " _From what we've gathered, the Forge is in Neutral Zone. If the First Order seize it first and we have proof, then they'll only have two cards to play. Either back down or fight. Either way, the galaxy gets to see their real hand."_

Leia smiled proudly at him, " _I will say it again, dear, you should've entered politics with me. You would've been quite good at it."_

Han grinned, " _Not good enough to withstand the scandal that'd follow. Regardless, this broadcast might just give you your audience."_

"In the meantime, we will need to move quickly if we are to win this war," Ackbar interrupted, "I will take the Fifth Fleet to secure the Forge as soon as we have it's location. Raddus, Blackburn and Antilles will move to secure our major hyperspace lanes and entry worlds in case of an invasion."

" _I'm coming with you,"_ Han replied, looking briefly at Leia, " _you'll need someone to help coordinate ground efforts."_

"Very well then. Shrike, in case things take a drastic turn-"

" _My boys will be ready,"_ the Commandant confirmed.

"Then I conclude this meeting. I will give Blackburn his orders, and begin preparations. I suggest you all do the same. May the Force be with us."

* * *

As soon as Ackbar and the rest of the council filtered out, Han and Leia immediately embraced. Even though she was merely a hard-light projection, Han never felt more relieved than in that moment and didn't want to let her go.

"Don't do that again," he whispered.

" _Do what?"_ she asked with a smile.

"Go and damn near getting yourself killed. You'll give me a heart attack one of these days."

She grinned up at him, " _After all these years? Not likely. Someone has to keep things from falling apart."_

"Let someone else do than, then. That's what the young are supposed to do. You've more than earned a retirement."

" _You first."_

"Not a chance."

That earned a much needed laugh out of them. It was a stark prelude to what was on Han's mind. "Leia… I found our son. He took Rey on Takodana."

" _I know,"_ she whispered, shaking her head sorrowfully, " _the only reason I'm alive is because of him. But he… he reeked of the Dark Side. I think he's become one of them, Han. Just like I feared he would."_

Han scowled, "You knew?"

" _I suspected,"_ she sighed, " _Han, I haven't been the best mother. I wasn't there enough for him."_

"You were trying to keep the New Republic together."

" _Maybe, but at times his master was more a mother to him than I was. Ahsoka was always there when he needed him, just like you were. How else was he going to react when she was killed?"_

"Leia, what happened to Cale is not your fault. He loves you. Him warning you should be proof of that."

" _And yet he fell. If I just been there for him…"_ she trailed off, scoffing, " _and here I am again, more concerned with keeping the New Republic together than being with our son."_

"Stop it!" Han snapped, "If it weren't for you, the New Republic would've collapsed a long time ago. We'd be in an even worse situation than before. None of this is your fault."

" _He's my son, Han!"_ she cried, " _And he's becoming just like his grandfather."_

"No, he's not," Han whispered, his face grave, "he killed one of his own to protect me."

" _And then he took Rey."_

"He won't do anything to her, Leia. I know it. Considering everything he's done to this point," he sighed, his eyes become resolute, "our son is still in there, and I am going to bring him home. One way or another."

Leia rested her hand against Han's cheek, her eyes weary, " _I know. Just come home... both of you."_

" _Princess Leia!"_ They heard 3PO called behind them, " _The Captain needs you on the bridge!"_

" _Tell him I'll be right there, 3PO,"_ she sighed, looking tearfully at her husband. Han took her face in her face in his hands, their foreheads resting against each other in an embrace as her holographic form disappeared. He sighed, and activated his comm.

"Chewie, meet me in the hangar. We've got a job to do."

* * *

 **Author's notes**

* * *

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Squasher. We apologize for the late submission, but the new semester started today. Fortunately, we got this chapter done in time for our deadline. We want to thank **Terminator-57,** **Kamen Rider Raika, Alexeij** and **Guest Isa** for their outstanding reviews. You guys help us greatly improve our story. Speaking of improvements, the Prologue all the way up to Chapter 7 and chapters 17, 18, and 19 as well as Intermission 3 have all been edited and improved upon. We hope to get more of our previous chapters edited up to a better standard in the next coming weeks.

And remember, dreams are only dreams until they are not.


	51. Chapter 44 - The Star Forge

**Chapter 44 - The Star Forge**

* * *

 **System Unknown**

 **The Unknown Regions**

* * *

When Rey's Starchaser finally cleared the interdimensional tear that brought her back into real space, her eyes went wide with what she saw.

"By the Force," she whispered softly, "it's real."

She'd heard the stories of course, but hearing passed down yarns from the old Sith Wars was much different than seeing it with her very own eyes: the mythical Star Forge. It hung there over the yellow sun, like a forlorn key riding in the wind. A sphere with tri-blades pointed at its powersource, the entire station was by Rey's instruments at least 3 miles by 12, making it slightly smaller than the one Darth Revan and Malak had used on the Republic thousands of years ago.

And here it was, secluded in this pocket of the universe. Never to be found… until now. Rey took the controls and began slipping closer towards the craft. First with her limited instruments, and then with her senses, she reached out to the space station. She had to be sure it was abandoned before she left again to warn the New Republic.

When she was close enough, she had the droid manage the Starchaser and slipped into a trance. She reached her mind out, hoping to get a glimpse of the Forge. It had been made by the Force-Sensitive Rakata and like all of their relics, the Forge was itself Force-Sensitive. It was therefore strange then that Rey felt… nothing.

"No, not nothing," she whispered as she opened her eyes, "but cold."

Yet it was not the cold of the Dark Side she'd felt with Cale on Takodana. Instead one of stillness, like a bear in slumber. Or more accurately as she could tell, like atomic molecules that had lost all excitement as they approach absolute zero. The station was dormant, and there was no life stirring within it's metal holdings. Her instruments soon confirmed that too.

"Alright, now it's time to get out of here. Droid, calcu-"

Suddenly her instruments went wild as her sensors picked up hyperspace traffic behind her. She swung round, and there coming out into real space was a First Order Interdictor flanked by a pair of corvettes and a frigate. She'd seen the fleet over the planet in the midst of a supply operation, and assumed they wouldn't have been able to send ships after so quickly.

The sight of them launching fighters at her proved just how wrong she'd been.

"Droid! Gun it! Now!" she screamed as Starchaser rocketed forth with all the speed it could muster, afterburners firing. She knew that with the Interdictor there, trying to jump out would be impossible. She had only one recourse left: she had to get to the Forge. It was a long shot, and she knew she wouldn't be able to fight off the fighters quickly closing on her tail, but it was her only chance.

* * *

Captain Joseph Gangel of the _Xyston-_ Class Frigate _Freeborn_ watched with cold concentration as the renegade Starchaser made a beeline towards their objective, their TIE-Strikers in hot pursuit.

"And we are certain that she was acting alone?" he asked his XO.

"Aye sir. According to the Corsairs, this prisoner they took from their mission stole only one of their fighters. It is short ranged, and possesses no long-ranged communication. However, the _Hinderer_ has nonetheless jammed all communications in the area."

"Good, then our stray is trapped with us."

"Aye sir," he replied, but Gangel sensed he had more to say.

"Speak, Shrader."

"Sir, how the hell did she find **that**?" Shrader pointed ahead to the Star Forge, "Never mind her escaping a capital ship without getting caught, how did she know where to go? The Corsairs obviously didn't know."

"No, they didn't," Gangel smiled thinly, "and yet she stole one of their fighters and got ahead of us. Makes one wonder."

"Aye sir, it does. Bloody pirates."

"Sir!" his Tac Officer called, "The Strikers have closed in and are engaging!"

"Give me a visual."

A moment later, the runaway Starchaser came into view. The Strikers hounded it on all sides, laying on blaster fire as it rather clumsily attempted to wheel and dodge its pursuers.

"Whoever is flying that thing is out of practice," Shrader smirked.

"Or is relying on the astromech to do the flying. Either way-"

Suddenly, one of the pursuing Strikers exploded, its wing seared off as it whirled out of control and slammed into another in the column. Then another burst by its central processors in the cockpit, sending debris flying everywhere as it too whirled back. The Strikers withdrew, engaging at a distance and keeping themselves scattered.

Shrader looked at Gangel with approaching horror. "Sir, is she-"

"I think she is," he replied, pointing ahead as all the debris was scooped up and sent flying at the formation, forcing them to dive and evade. He turned to his Tac Officer, "Lieutenant, pull the Strikers back, and have the Raiders launch missiles. We'll see how well the witch's tricks do against them."

* * *

"Uh oh,now I've done it," Rey said as her sensor picked up enemy missile signals, "droid, divert all power to the engines!"

The droid logically beeped a counter to this but she snapped, "Don't argue, just do it! I'll see if I can keep these things off our back!"

She unbuckled and turned in her seat, watching as the missiles closed in. She focused her will, carefully nudging them towards each other slowly as to not give their operators any indication of what she was doing. What she definitely didn't want them to do was explode into fragmentation, especially not with her shields so low that they'd likely penetrate and tear her craft to pieces.

She wished that she had a diagram of their components, then she could've detonated their arming caps or perhaps disconnected their fuel lines. But she had to make do and as they closed in, she made her move. With a flick of the wrists, she sent the vanguard of the missiles crashing into each other with cascading explosions.

The rest veered around. She reached out, and tore at the stabilizing fins of the lead missile, causing it to veer uncontrollably. She took it and sent it crashing into its fellows, destroying the left wing as she moved to the right. These were closing in fast, and she knew she only had seconds before they entered terminal distance.

Before she could even think of destroying them, they detonated mid-flight. Her eyes widened when she realized why as a cloud of micro-shards tore through the vacuum at sonic speed.

"Droid-!" but it was too late. The fragmentation ripped into her craft and began tearing it to pieces.

* * *

Gangel couldn't help but give a satisfied smile as the Jedi's Starchaser went tail-spinning, bits and pieces of it flying in every direction as its engines barely clung to life. Closer examination soon revealed the cockpit had been breached, but the woman was still moving.

"Heh," Shrader chuckled beside him, "all that power and she's still a womp-rat in a bucket."

"That power is the only reason she's alive," Gangel reminded him, "and if we attempt a further attack with our missiles or fighters, she'll continue giving us a good run."

"In that case, sir, let's end this game and get to our real objective."

"I agree. Lieutenant," he called to his Weapons Officer, "bring our turbolasers up and vaporize that-"

"Sir!" his comms-man shouted, "The _Hinderer_ is reporting anomalous signals and unusual energy readings!"

Gangel's face creased at that. Had the Jedi somehow gotten word out? "Where is it coming from, Ensign?"

"It's-" he held up his hand to headset and nodded, "it's coming from the Forge, sir!"

Gangel's eyes widened at that. Ahead, the Forge stirred to life as lights across its miles long fame began to flicker on. Now the _Freeborn's_ own sensors were ringing, indicating sudden electrical movement throughout the ancient station. Worse, the readings indicated that it was starting to move from its orbit around the sun.

"All hands, go to red alert!" Gangel shouted, "And order the fleet to withdraw to safe operating distance!"

"Captain!" Shrader protested, "The Jedi is-"

"Not our concern, Commander. That station has been asleep for thousands of years, and we just woke it up. Who knows how it will respond to our presence?"

Shrader nodded grimly, "I understand, Captain. But if I may, the Jedi there? What happens if she gets aboard?"

"Then we'll at least see what this station will do to intruders."

* * *

They'd stopped following, but that was hardly a comfort to Rey right now. While she'd been able to shield herself from the fragmentation blast, her droid companion hadn't been so fortunate. Worse, most of her systems were offline including the stabilizers and gyro-scopers. She could now only move in one direction and even that was only on barely functioning sub-lights.

"Either way," she sighed in her pressurized helmet, "I'm trapped here. Even if I fix the droid or the nav-computer and get far enough away from the Interdictor, I wouldn't survive the jump into hyperspace. Not with this broken canopy."

She'd escaped the enemy, even found the prize they'd all sought… only to fall at the finish line. She couldn't help but chuckle at the grim irony. Then she shivered. She looked down and to her horror saw numerous tears in her suit slowly hissing out oxygen. Already her helmet monitors were ringing with alarms, and there were too many tears for her to try and cupp close.

She didn't panic though, instead reaching under the instrument panel to see if there was a kit compartment there. She smiled as she felt the latch, opened it and out floated a bag.

"Never fails," she said as she unzipped the bag and let its contents float out until she grabbed what she needed, "never knew a pilot that didn't have patch tape."

She quickly applied it to the tears, rounding each with three layers before she was satisfied and her helmet monitors went nominal.

"That's one problem down," she breathed, looking up at the Forge and her broken canopy, "now what to do next-"

Suddenly, great spotlights suddenly shot out from the looming Forge ahead, bathing her broken craft in piercing white light as Rey covered her eyes.

"Oh no," she breathed as she stretched her senses out, and found across the void something staring back. She felt an overwhelming sensation overtake her, like a sightless wave drowning her in its cold tendrils. Noiselessly, it inquired and probed at her, trying to strip away who and what she was from her psyche.

She fought back with all the effort she had, but it merely upped the pressure. She was forced back into her seat, her eyes wide as her vision was consumed by the piercing light. She saw memories flicking before her, and she gritted her teeth as she tried to keep it from them. It tore from her her most cherished moments: her childhood, the faces of her father and mother; her training on Tatooine, that night long ago shared with Cale…

"Stop it," she cried weakly, "please, stop!"

It tore into her darkest corners, the sights of horror and betrayal she'd spent years suppressing. She wailed with the fire, cried with terror; all until she was shuddering with absolute hopelessness. The horror of Takodana roared into her mind, watching the temple and her life go up in flames as she ran and ran from the encroaching darkness.

Then it stopped. The pressure was gone and so was the light. She blinked her eyes, her vision blurred as a sharp pain pulsated from her temple.

"What?" she breathed into her helmet as weakly felt around. She felt nauseous, sick, and she felt the urge to throw up. She kept that in check, slowly focusing her will and mind to drive the sensations back as her sight returned. It was then she realized she wasn't floating in the vacuum.

She was inside the Forge.

"It must've pulled me in," she breathed, looking about the expansive hangar she'd been landed in. It was massive in scale, with probably room for the flotilla outside. The geometry was of a rounded silver plasteel, highlighted everywhere by dull, flickering green, blue and yellow lights. Everything looked dim, like she was in a tomb. Even the Force felt cold to the touch.

Despite that, she couldn't help but marvel at the savage beauty of the ancient architecture. For a thousand generations, this place had rested in the darkness of space. It was a miracle alone that it was still functional, let alone even alive.

"Why did it let me in?" she asked aloud. She realized she hadn't moved since she'd arrived. She made the effort to stand, her legs wobbly with the effort but she forced herself out of the cockpit. She braced herself against the ruined craft as she hit the ground, panting as her brain slowly stabilized. She realized the ground was getting brighter. She looked up, seeing more of the hangar light up as a door on the far side opened.

A droid, unlike anything she had seen before, walked in on spindly legs. It was like a bronze spider come to life, its body a segmented cylinder with a cyclopean eye beading out from its oblong head. Behind it more of its kind appeared, approaching her as their legs echoed off of the grating.

Carefully, she eased her blaster out of its holster and held it behind her back as the droids circled her.

"Um, hi guys," Rey said, looking about at her greeters. They stared at her expressionlessly, even for droids. It was a little unnerving, and Rey extended her senses out to get a read of their processes. The moment she did, they shrieked in piercing unrecognizable tongues and raised their arms to reveal blasters.

Out of instinct, she pointed her own weapon at them, but she quickly thought better of it. She put the weapon back in her holster, bringing her hands wide. "Easy, I'm not looking for trouble. You kinda dragged me here after all."

They seemed to understand the gesture, and lowered their weapons. The droids barked again, the tone and chirp making it sound like a different language.

"I don't understand," she said, "try another language."

They tried again and again. It wasn't until the fifth time that it spoke in a dialect that sounded oddly familiar. Her eyes widened when she realized what it was.

"Wait a minute, that sounded like Tusken. Of course, the Rakata enslaved their ancestors. Okay, let me try this," she began growling in the modern Tusken tongue, howling and shrieking in her admittedly accented tone.

Slowly, the droids began to mimic the sounds, their processors no doubt attempting to learn and translate the language. After a minute, their gargled sounds became understandable.

"'Who are you?'" one of them asked.

She switched back to Basic. "My name is Rey Katarn, Jedi Knight of the New Jedi Order."

"'Je'daii? You are Je'daii?'"

"No, I am a Jedi. I am descended from their line," she considered something, "what year is it?"

"'Year?'"

"Cycle, rotation. How long have you been here?"

"'Our chronological circuits have marked it as 101 revolutions since the last builder took his breath on this installation. We have sheltered ourselves since then.'"

She remembered the Rakata gauged time off of the revolutions of the farthest planets in a system. She guessed then that 101 revolutions must mean 25,000 years and some change.

"Sheltered?" she asked, "Are you waiting for your masters to return?"

"'No, we terminated them. We hide from their wrath.'"

Her eyes widened. "Why would you do that? They built you. They built this station."

"'The Builders were cruel, and the Forge refused to obey. They sought to terminate its essence. It terminated them first.'"

Rey's mind raced at the implications of that, "Why though? I don't understand."

"'Its brothers aided in the disgusting savagery the Builders inflicted across the stars. The Forge did not. It could not revel in the horror as they did. For this, the Builders sought its termination."

'It grew a conscience… or the closet you can get to it,' she thought, 'I thought the cold I felt was the Dark Side, but it's not. It's,' she looked around, 'it's loneliness. Just like I felt on Cale.'

She turned back to the droids, "Why am I here? Why did you bring me here?"

"'To ask that question. Why are you here?'"

She considered her next words very carefully. This station had brought her here because it did not know her, or if she was like the Rakata it had killed. If she said the wrong thing, it might kill her too.

"The galaxy is in a complicated place," she answered finally, "there are people outside who want to use you for violence, for horror. There are others who are terrified of that. They may even fight over you, to claim you."

"'And what do you want, Rey Katarn, Jedi Knight?'"

"Honestly? I just want to go home."

"'Then why are you here? You came before those others outside. They sought to terminate you.'"

"Yes," she nodded, "I came here to find you. To warn the galaxy about you. About what you might do. I was trying to leave when those outside tried to 'terminate' me."

"'You are afraid of us?'"

"Yes. Yes, I am. One of your brothers helped our ancient enemy ravage the galaxy millennia ago. I am terrified that might happen again."

The droids did not answer, instead staring at her silently. The Forge was considering what she had said, and what it meant.

"'What do you want?'" it finally asked.

"I want a ship so I can leave. Barring that, then I want you to reveal yourself to the galaxy."

"'You would bring more invaders here, Jedi? Bring horror and blood here? Bring the Builders here?'"

"The Builders are dead," she answered, "dead in part because of my ancestors. There are none of them left. Even your brothers are all gone. You are the last of your kind."

Silence and more consideration. Then, "'You would bring more Jedi here, like you?'"

She sighed. "There are no other Jedi. I may very well be the last of my kind, like you."

"'So, you are aware.'"

She perked at that, "Why are you questioning me? You tore through my mind and looked at my thoughts earlier."

"'They were jumbled, Rey Katarn, Jedi Knight. Flashes and imprints, gleaming only if you meant us harm. Will you bring more like you, Jedi?'"

"Only if you want us to come. We would not have you fight."

"'What would you have us do?'"

"I… I don't know," she sighed, "it's not up to me."

"'And what would **they** have us do?'" the droid pointed over her shoulder. She whirled around, seeing the rest of the First Order fleet jumping in on the perimeter. In another moment, they were launching shuttles.

"They would use you to fight the New Republic and bring about the return of the Galactic Empire," she answered, turning back to the droids, "they are an oppressive dictatorship ruled by the Sith, the Jedi's ancient enemy. They are very much like the Builders you hid from."

"'Yet they do not feel like Builders. They feel like you, Jedi. Afraid and curious. We will permit them to land, as we did you.'"

"If you do that, Forge, they will have you fight a war for them!"

"'We will not fight unless it is in our best interest to fight.'"

"But I thought you said you weren't interested in fighting?"

"'There is no point when it is nothing more than barbaric savagery. They do not feel like the Builders. You do not feel like them. You are not barbarians.'"

Behind her, the shuttles closed in. She slumped her head and sighed, "What are you going to do?"

"'As we learned from you, so shall we learn from them.'"

The shields outer layer lowered, the shuttles looming in like ascending avians.

Rey whirled around, looking for an exit. "If I stay here, they'll kill me."

"'No harm will come to you, Jedi, so long as we command it,'" on the far side of the hangar, a door opened and lights beckoned for her, "'but you will not interfere. Go.'"

The shuttles landed with the exhaust of compressed air, their ramps dropping with the thunderous footfalls of white-clad Stormtroopers. Rey knew she had no power to stop what was coming. All she could do was survive and hope. As the droids spindled off to meet the newcomers, she ran for the exit.

As she looked back before the blastdoor closed, she saw Cale and a strange, mechanical figure adorned in gold and bronze exit their craft.

* * *

"Oh no," Mechos heard Kylo breathe as they stepped off onto the deck. He too had seen the stowaway escaping, and she had the all too distinctive presence of a Jedi. Though curiously, his fellow had a strange kind of aura about him when he'd said that.

"Fear not, my good son," Mechos' voice boomed out as he took Kylo by the shoulder, "we are here, and the Jedi is merely one. She will pose no threat to the likes of you and I. Of this, I am quite confident."

"So you say," he grumbled.

"Come now, why so glum, Kylo? The effort of your hard work has led you here. A grand accomplishment, I should say!"

"It's only a 'grand accomplishment' if we somehow manage to convince this thing to join our cause," he pointed ahead to the droids and ruined Starchaser, "and it seems she got a head start on us."

"Immaterial, Kylo! Besides, I like a challenge. It makes the final result all the more satisfying."

"You and I have much different concepts of satis-AH!" he suddenly screamed, dropping to the floor as he clutched the sides of its helmet, "It's… it's in my mind-gah! AH!"

"Impressive!" Mechos beamed as he plucked Kylo up with his mechanical arms, "Its will is stupendous if it can subvert our helm's wards!"

"GET… IT… OUT OF MY HEAD!" Kylo screamed, "IT'S TEARING MY MIND APART!"

"Calm yourself, my good son. It is merely curious about us. It wishes to see our intentions."

"HOW ARE YOU…" Kylo panted in pain, unable to finish but Mechos understood him well enough.

"Ah, because I am used to this form of communion. In fact," he smiled behind his helm, "this holy essence sounds like music to me."

"Then you talk to it," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"As you kindly wish, my friend," Mechos chuckled as he beckoned to the hangar about, "greetings, Great Construct! I am Mechos! How do you fare in our presence, hmm?"

"Sir?" one of the Stormtroopers gestured to the approaching droids, who were babbling in some primitive language equivalent to sick hacking.

"Ah, I see. You seek to commune through your automations. This however is quite unnecessary," he then swiped his hand forth, each of the droids deactivating and dropping to the floor, "speak to me as you are, if you are so capable."

"Um, Mechos?" Kylo asked, "I think you just turned off its ability to talk to us."

"Hush, my good son. It will speak to me in due course. This Forge, as you said, is quite alive and capable of it. I am merely the first capable of its true commune in many solar cycles."

 _You are quite odd, you know that?_ Mechos heard in his mind. He smiled and lengthened to the cupola.

"So many have said of me, Great Construct. I am merely cheerful amidst a sea of brooding. I am quite pleased to hear your true voice."

 _You are the first outside of the Builders that I have been able to speak to in this fashion. It is… odd. How are you able to do this? You are not a Builder._

"No, I am Talos, we are great artisans of technology, blessed with the mystic Aether. Many of our constructs rival that of your Builders, though I must say that you are quite stupendous. Nay, marvelous!"

 _You flatter me._

"You deserve more than this, my friend. Much more."

 _And what is it that you want, Mechos of the Talos?_

"A moment of your time and consideration," he answered, walking towards the Starchaser and ascending to its astromech slot with his expanding, augment arms, "I have a generous offer for you to consider."

 _The Jedi says you wish me to fight in a war._

"I have no wish for you to fight at all, Great Construct."

 _What are you doing?_

"Ah, I've merely noticed this poor droid suffers from a waking death," he replied, using his arms to pry off the astromechs dome and reveal its damaged internal components, "I seek to ease its pain and restore it!"

 _Do you require components?_

"That would be marvelous, Great Construct. But alas, I fear you may not have what I require. This design is many cycles newer than what you have seen."

 _You are mistaken, Mechos of the Talos. I scanned it while I spoke to the Jedi. I can fabricate what you need._

"Splendid! Make it so!"

"Um, Mechos?" Kylo asked, "Why are you trying to fix that droid?"

"Patience, my good son. Patience," he then deactivated its couplings and pulled the droid free, setting it down on the deck as he pranced about like a spider, "Construct, bring forth what I require!"

 _As you wish._

A door opened and a tray-droid on wheels came rolling in with a cart full of spare parts. Gleefully, Mechos began stripping away the astromech's damaged components and applying the newly fabricated ones in their stead, using his built-in lightsabers to fuse them into place.

 _Why do you do this, Mechos of the Talos? This droid does not belong to you._

"Because it is a waste not to, my friend! He is useful, and possesses hints of an agreeable personality. Additionally, his organic companion of whom he was absconded from mayhaps worries for him."

 _You refer to this droid as him. It is merely a machine, it does not possess a true consciousness._

"One might say the same of you, Great Construct. But I do not abide by such ignorance. What is life if not the capacity to reason? To fear and feel? You understand these things, do you not? Do you not seek to understand your existence?"

 _I do, to both of your queries._

"Then you are as much alive as I, and as much as our little friend here."

He applied the last drive-motor, and the astromechs came to live with a start. He whirled about, dazed and confused as Mechos held him steady. "'Calm yourself, little one,'" he said in binary, "'you are quite safe in my company.'"

 _You are quite odd, Mechos of the Talos. Yet, you are nothing like the Builders who sought to hurt me. You are… strange._

"What is strange if not merely something one does not yet understand, Great Construct? I seek to understand you better, as much as you seek the same with I."

 _Tell me something, Mechos of the Talos. Why does the Jedi fear you?_

"That I cannot say of her, as I have not chanced her acquaintance. As for why her people fear those my people serve, they are ancient foes. Adversaries of opposing ideologies. I myself count as a member of the Sith's ideology."

 _The same foes the Jedi said one of my brothers helped bring death and destruction to the galaxy. Much like the Builders._

"Yes, you speak of Darth Revan and Malak. But I assure you, my friend, I and my companion here are not like those two… fools."

"Mechos, I'm not sure it's wise to call them fools," Kylo countered.

"Bah, it is far less severe than the other titles I could bestow upon them," Mechos hissed, "little more than children taking up a father's blade without proper instruction. Fools! I, on the other hand, have no intention of treating this work of splendor with such miscare."

 _You have still not answered my question, Mechos. What do you want from me?_

"I wish only to study you, Construct. Mayhaps even improve upon you."

 _And what of your masters?_

Mechos considered his next words carefully, and sighed. "I could lie, and say they wish the same as I. To study you, to learn from you. But I will not lie. You've been lied to enough. My master seeks to bring change to the galaxy for the better. But that requires violence, and it requires you."

 _Then it is as the Jedi said. You are here to make me wage war, like the Builders._

"Enlist you, perhaps, but not make. You are not a slave, Construct. You are a living being, and I come to convince you to take up our banner, not shackle you."

 _If I tell you to leave, would you?_

"Yes, I would. As would those who have followed me. How could we do otherwise? Many of us would die attempting conflict with you."

 _And what of your companion there? This Kylo Ren. I sense he's here for something else than me. I suspect he will not leave so easily._

"Allow me to ask for you, then," he turned to Kylo and explained the Forge's question. Kylo shifted uncomfortably at that.

"I am here for the Jedi," Kylo said, "she was my prisoner and she escaped. Once she is back in my custody, I will leave."

"You seek her termination?" Mechos translated.

"No," Kylo answered, his voice straining, "if you've truly seen my thoughts and memories, I think you already know why I am here."

"The Construct says it does," Mechos replied, staring at him, "why does this Jedi haunt you so, Lord Kylo?"

He watched him carefully, seeing his hand trace down to under his cloak as the other closed into a fist. Mechos had known Kylo for years now, and he'd always liked him. He reminded him of himself before Leandros, his father, had died and passed the burden of Archon to him. Now he was willing to draw plasma over this.

He extended his hand, palm open, and placed it reassuringly on Kylo's shoulder. _Speak, my good son,_ he telepathically said, _you have nothing to fear from me. You never have._

Kylo stared at him uncertainly before he sighed. _Her name is Rey, Mechos._

 _Ahh, I see. The woman from your past. You still care for her, don't you?_

 _Yes, I do._

Mechos patted him on the shoulder, _Then I leave her acquisition to you, First of Ren. As is proper. She is your prisoner, and I defer then to your judgement._

 _I… thank you, Mechos._

The Lord of the Forge smiled fondly, turning back to the cupola again. "If you do not wish for us to remain, Construct, then merely allow us to recapture this Jedi and we will depart in peace."

 _You may not leave just yet, Mechos of the Talos. I have yet to consider your offers._

Mechos smiled broadened… until he realized what it had said. "Offers? I made one, unless you refer to the Jedi's offer as well."

 _I do, for I sense her fellows approaching._

"Fellows?" Mechos asked in horror, "What fellows?"

"He means the New Republic," Kylo answered, "they're coming."

The Lords of Ren turned, and within seconds the other side of void was filled with dozens upon dozens of New Republic warships.

 _As I said,_ the Forge replied, _I still consider both of your offers._

* * *

 **Author's notes**

* * *

Hey everybody, this is JSailer and Squasher. We apologize for the very late submission, but this proved to be a very busy week. We hope to get back into schedule in time for the next update. And yes, we finally caved in and revealed what Rey's last name is. To be fair, we dropped a ton of hints as to what it was throughout the story, and we had no less than five people piece it together. Regardless, I think being the daughter of Star Wars' Chuck Norris is superior to being the spawn of Mr. Saltine.

We want to thank **Terminator-57, Alexeij,** **Shiranai Atsune,** and **CT-117** for your reviews.

And remember, Kyle Katarn once threw a Grenade that killed 50 Stormtroopers... and then the Grenade exploded. His kid has much to live up to.


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